


Dead Man's Prayer

by grimwoode



Series: Of Privateers and Pirates [1]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Brotherly Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, M/M, Past Child Abuse, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pirate Spain, Prostitution, Religious Guilt, Smut, Suicide, Swearing, Swordplay, Tragic Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-03-25 13:26:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 55,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3812176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grimwoode/pseuds/grimwoode
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antonio is a pirate and Lovino is an Italian merchant’s grandson that is tired of living a sedentary life and craves a little adventure. He finds a way to get himself on Antonio’s crew and he discovers an adventure, just as he hoped… It just wasn’t the sort of adventure he was expecting.</p><p><b>Disclaimer</b>: Some characters are original. You'll know which ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Draw a Circle, That's My Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes place c. 1700 during the Golden Age of Piracy, but before South Italy gained its independence from Spain.  
> Orsino's name comes from Shakespeare's Twelfth Night. He may or may not share some of the character's characteristics as well... aw shucks.

_Art by[galactic-aesir](http://galactic-aesir.tumblr.com/post/119680984751/for-aphnouvellefrance-and-her-wonderful#notes), used with permission._

* * *

 

Being a pickpocket can be a profitable profession, if you’re good at it. And boy, is Lovino good at it. Just today, he snagged three pocket watches, two wallets, and a silver snuff box. He met up with a black market merchant at the same place as usual: a cafe in a crowded plaza. Meeting in a crowded place somewhat made sense to Lovino, but he couldn't understand why Orsino insisted on always showing up looking sharp and rich.

Today, he decided to show up in bright red stockings, a yellow embroidered waist coat under a dark grey overcoat with cyan blue lapels. The frilliest mauve ascot Lovino had ever seen was around the dealer’s neck. No peacock could stand out as well as this man, and it made Lovino cringe every time he saw him dressed so garishly. Especially since it always made Lovino look more suspicious by comparison since he was so obviously of meagre means, dressed in his dirty undershirt and wearing plain brown slacks. It was especially suspicious that they always met at the same place and at the same time on any given day. He'd only been doing business with this man for a few months, but if he was not going to switch things around a little, it was only a matter of time until someone in a uniform noticed what sort of business they were conducting. It's not everyday you see a sharp dressed man having a coffee with a plainer looking man.

At least, you're not supposed to. Lovino felt it was time he take his business elsewhere.

He looked around the plaza for any uniforms and strode towards the table his dealer was sitting at. He sat down slouching in his chair while Orsino took an exaggeratedly long sip from his coffee.

“Do you fancy a coffee this fine morning, Lovino?”

He scowled. He hated the pretentious airs Orsino put on. For a common crook, he seemed to think of himself as an honest businessman.

“Nah, I had my coffee.”

Orsino sighed and set his cup down.

“What do you have for me today?”

Lovino smirked. Today was a good hull, after all. He set his satchel down on the table with the opening facing Orsino so he could take a look at the two watches and the snuff box hidden inside. Lovino felt no need sharing the money purses and had snuck them inside his shirt before arriving at the plaza. Content, Orsino took out his money pouch and handed Lovino what he no doubt considered a “generous” payment for the trinkets. The older man pocketed the watches and snuff box, gave Lovino the same bright smile he always gave him and rose from his chair.

“Always a pleasure doing business with you, Lovino.”

“Pleasure’s all mine.”

Orsino casually walked away towards the main part of the city, leaving Lovino sitting alone at the cafe. Lovino looked about cautiously again. Satisfied, he rose from his chair picking up his satchel and headed home. Orsino really was getting stupider. He didn’t even bother checking for the initials engraved on the inside of the snuff box before walking away. Lovino doubted he was going to get much — if anything — out of it because of the engraving, but that’s what happens when you put too much trust in the wrong people.

There were three reasons why Lovino cheated this man out of his money. First, he wasn't intending on seeing him ever again, so he had nothing to lose. Second, he wasn't stupid and knew exactly what the valuables he picked were selling for and he felt he wasn't getting nearly a big enough compensation for them. Third, Feliciano’s birthday was coming up and for once, just for once, he wanted his younger brother to get something nice for his birthday.

Lovino carried a smirk all the way home. He was quite proud of himself for having conned a con man but despite that, he was afraid of what was waiting for him at home.

*

Grandpa Roma’s bookstore was a drabby old building in the middle of a busy city street. There were many old shops lining both sides of this street with apartment dwellings above them, usually belonging to the shop owners. Lovino lived in such an apartment above the bookstore with his younger brother and his grandfather. He took his time weaving through the crowds of shoppers to get to the bookstore. He knows he’ll have to get through Grandpa in the bookstore to get to the apartment upstairs, and he had a feeling he was going to get chastised again for not working an honest job.

Lovino was approaching the old bookstore. The walls outside were painted a lively orange colour, and the shop windows were so filled with Feliciano’s paintings that a passerby wouldn’t think it was a bookstore, unless they looked up and saw _La Libreria di Roma_ painted across the sign over the door. Lovino figured that this was probably why the books weren’t selling as well as they used to. Grandpa refused to take down the paintings partially because it was Feliciano’s best source of income but also because he was so damn proud of his youngest grandson’s talent.

A little bell sounded through the shop as Lovino cracked the door open. He was supposed to be working the shop this morning, and decided to skip out on shop duty in favour of making a hell of a lot more money pickpocketing. It wasn’t the “honest” profession Grandpa wants him to have. The only reason he was on shop duty this week was because Feliciano was out painting some aristocrat’s portrait by commission. Now that was an honest living, as Grandpa loves to remind him.

Lovino hoped that Grandpa hadn’t heard the bell and he tried to creep his way around the counter to dash up the stairs, but before he could get passed the romance section, Grandpa’s voice resounded across the shop.

“Lovino! Where the _hell_ were you this morning?!”

Lovino stopped mid-track. He hoped that Grandpa would be in a good mood that morning and that he would be able to avoid his nagging, but clearly it couldn’t be avoided.

Now it was all about damage control.

“I’m sorry, Grandpa. I had some errands to run this morning,” he said as he worked his way towards the back room.

“What kind of errands could you _possibly_ be running at 5 o’clock in the morning?” Well, it was more like 11 o’clock in the evening. Lovino typically stays up all night waiting for the rich people to get so wasted, they wouldn’t even notice his hand in their pockets. Then he just wanders the city until it was time to meet with the black market dealer. He usually naps in the mornings until it’s time to work the shop. He didn’t want Grandpa to know about his sneaking out at night, so he usually went without much sleep.

The old man appeared from behind a curtain separating the backroom from the main shop. Now that Lovino had a good look at his old man’s face, he knew how much shit he was in. He stopped behind the counter, his full six feet of anger looking down at Lovino, and he had to hold back a whimper. The last thing he needed was to look scared in front of Grandpa when he was in this mood.

“You were out stealing again weren’t you.” He wasn’t yelling anymore, but his words still stung. They always stung. They resonated with all of Grandpa’s disappointments and frustrations regarding Lovino’s “pastime”. “You were supposed to be manning the shop with me today while Feli is away.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. I’ll just start—”

“Lovi, you know I love you right?”

Well, it’s kind of hard to tell when he’s scowling at Lovino. Tentatively, he answered “yes”.

“You know I don’t mind you going out and having fun. I wouldn’t mind you making an honest living, either. Take your brother for example. He—”

Lovino couldn’t help the groan that slipped out of his mouth, and it was quite loud. He was just so tired of always hearing how great his brother is, and this was surely going to be another one of those “talks”. But just as the groan slipped from his mouth, he instantly regretted it. Grandpa was already in a bad mood and giving him lip wasn’t going to soften him up. He avoided looking up at Grandpa. Frankly, he was afraid of what he might see.

“Oh, come on, Lovino! Can’t you be happy for him? You know how hard it’s been—”

“ _Yes_ , I’m happy for him! I _know_ how hard it’s been for him, because _it’s been hard for me too_. But never mind _me_! Grandpa, I don’t have talent the way Feli does. He can paint and draw and sing _just like you_ and he’s good at it and I’m so _fucking_ happy for him, but _I’m not like Feliciano!_ …And I’m not like you.”

Still afraid to look up at Grandpa, he kept his head down.

“Lovi…” Grandpa’s voice had dropped and the earlier tone of disappointment was replaced with what Lovino felt to be pity.

He didn’t want to listen to whatever else he had to say. He ran up the stairs to the room he shared with his brother, leaving Grandpa alone in the shop.

As Lovino crossed the threshold to his room, he tossed his satchel onto his bed and began to pace the room restlessly. He just hated being compared to his younger brother; the talented little brother versus the bitter older brother. Feliciano Vargas was going places in life. He was making an honest living. He gets to travel to new places and meet new people because of his commissions. All Lovino gets to do is man the book shop or steal from pompous rich people, and stealing was the only thrill he ever felt around here. What was wrong with wanting to get out once in a while?

He needed to get his head out of the gutter. He needed to distract himself away from constantly remembering how dull and pathetic his life really was. For now, the only distraction at hand was the book shop downstairs. He was supposed to be on duty after all.

He took a deep breath to gather his courage. He could do this. He could face his grandpa. He went back down the stairs in a steady stride. When he arrived at the landing, he found his grandfather at the counter reading a yellowed old book. Hearing Lovino coming down, he looked up at his grandson apologetically.

“Lovi, I’m sorry.”

Lovino froze at the landing and looked down at his feet with his hands in his pockets. Grandpa didn’t usually apologize. Come to think of it, Lovino doesn’t usually lose control in front of Grandpa either.

“I realize how hard this is for you; how hard it’s always been for you.” Grandpa got up from his chair and started walking towards Lovino. “You’ve been so good at hiding it all these years I almost forgot what you went through. I should have realized…” Grandpa pulled Lovino into a hug. Not the casual kind that Grandpa liked to give everyone, but the bear-like kind. The serious kind. Lovino didn’t try to push him away. “It’s harder for you isn’t it? I’m always paying close attention to what Feli is feeling and that’s not fair to you.” Lovino gave in to the hug and wrapped his arms around his torso, burying his face in the crook of his neck. He hasn’t hugged anyone like this since his mother died. “We’ll figure something out, okay? I promised you I would take care of you and I will never break that promise.”

With a final squeeze, Lovino pulled away from Grandpa, and without looking up said, “I know”. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it was loud enough for Grandpa to hear.

Grandpa rested his hand on Lovino’s shoulder and said, “I have a few things that I need to pick up at the market. Do you mind watching the shop while I’m out? You can read any of the books if you’d like.”

Unable to get a word pass the ball of emotions caught in his throat, Lovino resorted to nodding. Grandpa gave him a light peck on the cheek before walking out the bookstore, leaving Lovino alone and slightly dazed. He liked it when Grandpa showed affection, and Grandpa’s right: he really does pay closer attention to Feliciano’s emotions because of what happened. It was just expected of Lovino to be tough through hard times and it just wasn’t fair.

His anger had been simmering just below the surface ever since Feliciano started painting for money and Lovino started stealing for a little extra cash. Feliciano had his talents, and he had his own. Both were trying to help around the apartment as best they could, wanting to pay back Grandpa for taking them in. What did it matter if Lovino’s way was morally wrong? Of course, he never actually expected to let his anger get the best of him, especially not with Grandpa, but he somehow felt better now that he did. Not only because he didn’t expect Grandpa to take it so well, but also because the anger that had been simmering wasn’t there anymore. He felt lightened.

And frankly, he was tired of thinking about it. Grandpa gave him free rein to read any book in the shop, and he intended to take advantage of it. He walked up to the romance section, plucked the first book off the shelf and sat down in the chair at the back of the counter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews/comments are always greatly appreciated (both positive and negative). It's always nice to see what people think (^.^)


	2. Home Sweet Home

Grandpa had been gone until mid-afternoon buying food at the market. By the time he got back, his two friends showed up and were sitting in the backroom talking up a storm. Lovino was so engrossed in his book that he barely noticed them walking in. He was only really bothered from his reading when customers came in and browsed, since he always made sure they were not pocketing anything. Well, at least that’s what he would do. Only one customer actually bought something, and it was to buy one of Feliciano’s paintings.

Grandpa entered the shop humming a popular ballad under his breath. His mood had lightened considerably, and it made Lovino feel better knowing that his Grandpa wasn’t still upset with him. He walked around the counter carrying his groceries, leant down to land a second peck on Lovino’s head which he partially acknowledged and strolled into the backroom where he was met with boisterous greetings and laughter from his childhood friends. Lovino felt a brief moment of gratitude for the return to normalcy in his life before he went back to engross himself in his book.

Grandpa and his friends talked for hours. They eventually moved upstairs where Grandpa made dinner and brought a plate of pasta down for Lovino before they went to eat their own in the backroom. Lovino took his time savouring his dinner and enjoying the taste. Having nothing else to distract him while he ate, his attention moved to the conversation grandpa was having with his friends.

“I have a cousin in Corsica that told me there was an attack there too recently. These pirates are everywhere nowadays.”

Pirates? Lovino’s interest was piqued, and he paused to listen closer.

“I’ve heard rumours that they’re moving their way to us here. We should prepare ourselves for the worst. Pietro, you should consider locking up your pretty daughters until they leave the Mediterranean Sea.”

“Never mind my daughters, Alonzo. You have all that money saved up to buy your boy a farm! If they get their hands on that, he’ll have no future.”

“Relax, friends. I doubt the pirates will attack South Italy. There’s hardly anything of value to steal, we’re so poor!” It was Grandpa speaking this time.

“Easy for you to say. You don’t have any daughters yet living, and the only land in your name is this book shop. I doubt the pirates are literate enough to care!”

Pietro’s comment got a few chuckles, but the laughter quickly died down.

“Let’s not talk of pirates anymore. It spoils the appetite. Roma, I heard your grandson received a commission from the aristocrats up the hill!”

By this point, Lovino lost interest. His book was forgotten now and his mind revolved around pirates. There were pirates coming to South Italy. If anyone had freedom, it was them. He imagined what it would be like to sail the seas and see the world from a ship. He could meet so many people, see so many great sights, experience so many girls; just thinking about it made him excited. He already knew he loved boating, from the few times his Papà took him out fishing before he disappeared.

It wasn’t long until Lovino found himself looking forward to their arrival. Obviously he was going to stash his extra cash away before they got here, but he was determined to get a closer look. Just a peek, just to know what it might be like to sail the seas and live that much excitement.

A little adventure never hurt anyone.

 

* * *

 

_Antonio had just received his sixth beating this week… And it was only Wednesday. Being a child with a knack for trouble-making comes with a high price in an orphanage. But for once, this beating wasn’t deserved. The headmistress blamed him for breaking the vase in her bedroom. Antonio knew it couldn’t be him because he was in the yard playing football with his friends. It didn’t matter how hard he cried and how much he pleaded that it wasn’t his fault, that he didn’t do it, she just didn’t believe him. In fact, she almost seemed to enjoy beating him, flogging him with her stick. She especially liked to do it in front of the other kids so he can be their example. Antonio knows he saw Adrian smirk, and he realized that it was Adrian that broke the headmistress’ vase, and he was getting away with it._

Snap! _She flogged again, and he screamed._

_“I didn’t do it, I swear!”_

Snap! _He screamed again._

_“I swear it was Adrian! I was outside! I didn’t do it!”_

_“So now you’re a liar, too.”_ Snap!

_The pain was terrible. He could feel the skin on his bum welting, but she kept hitting him until it was raw with searing pain. When his skin began to bleed, she finally stopped. By this point, he was crying and shuddering from the pain and trauma._

_“You’re such a weak little boy. You’ll never amount to anything.”_

_It didn’t matter if what she said was true. It didn’t matter if he was still a kid. There was no way he was staying here in this orphanage another night. He had to get away, even if it meant losing all his friends._

_That night, he waited until her snores were heard through the orphan house. He painfully rolled out of bed, still sore from his beating that afternoon. He snuck from his bed, being careful not to wake any of the other boys and he crept through the house. It was especially slow and painful crossing the headmistress’ bedroom. When he reached the front door, he found it locked. That wasn’t going to stop him though, because he was prepared. He took a makeshift lockpick out of his pocket and fiddled with the lock until it gave way, giving him his first taste of freedom since he was abandoned on the orphanage’s doorstep as a babe seven years earlier._

_He was running away and never looking back._

_He roamed the streets of Barcelona, being careful to avoid the main roads. He didn’t want to be caught in the middle of the night and have his efforts wasted by being brought back to that hell-house. He eventually reached the coast of the Mediterranean Sea and keeping to the road, he walked along it. There was a wharf up the coast. A wharf meant boats and boats meant travel. He knew that much. He thought that maybe he could stowaway on one of the ships until they reached a different coast where he would be far away from the orphanage. Maybe he could even use his charm and cute looks to get a family to adopt him. He liked the idea of a loving family…_

_He arrived at the wharf and the smell of rotting fish assaulted him. Determined to carry through with his plan, he ignored the smell and looked for a boat of decent size that he could hide in. There weren’t many people around the wharf at this early morning hour. Most of the boats were small fishing boats that would eventually come back. Until he looked out at the sea._

_He found a ship. It would’ve been perfect if it wasn’t anchored so far from the coast. There were a few barges along the edge of the dock that probably belonged to it. Antonio was standing on the edge of the dock looking at the ship and trying to figure out how long it could take him to get to it by barge before someone noticed…_

_“Hey, scram!”_

_Startled, Antonio whipped around and found a man standing a few feet away. He would’ve fallen into the sea had the man not caught him by his shirt and pulled him away from the drop. Shuddering in fright, Antonio knelt down in front of the man, gathering his wits so he could run away, but the man caught him and lifted him by his hair._

_He was trapped._

_“What the fuck do you think you’re doing oggling my ship, you pest.”_

_“I-I wasn’t o-oggling, sir!”_

_“Save it, you piece of shit. I’ve been watching you. You were planning on stowing away, huh?”_

_Antonio got a good look at the man. He had an ugly swollen scar running down the middle of his face, splitting his nose. His skin was dark and his eyes seemed black. His hair was dreadlocked and crowned with a tricorn. There were gold chains around his neck and what looked like an armoury worth of guns and blades on his person. The man looked terrifying, but Antonio was fascinated by him._

_“Are you a pirate?”_

_The man stared at Antonio before letting a small smile slowly creep across his face and chuckled. His laugh and smile were infectious. He couldn’t help but smile too, despite the pain from the flogging and his hair matted in the man’s hand._

_“Where are your parents, kid?”_

_“What parents?”_

_The man chuckled again._

_“What are you doing up so late?”_

_“I’m running away.”_

_The man’s smile dropped slightly at Antonio’s response. Antonio thought it was curious how this scary man almost seemed to sympathize._

_“What’s your name?”_

_“Antonio.”_

_The man let go of Antonio’s hair._

_“How would you like to see the world, Antonio?”_

_A broad grin spread across Antonio’s face. Of course he wanted to see the world! He excitedly nodded his head and a new smile appeared on the man’s face. He held his hand out to Antonio, which Antonio gladly shook._

_“Captain Armado. Welcome aboard, Antonio Piece-of-Shit.”_

_“Carriedo.”_

_“What?”_

_“Carriedo. My surname is Carriedo, not Piece-of-Shit.”_

_Armado grinned and nodded, “and so it is!”_

_He patted Antonio’s shoulder and directed him to the barge. He then proceeded to load some chests and—_

Antonio woke up drenched in water. Shaking his head, he looked up to see a fellow crew member holding an empty bucket over his head.

“We’ll be arriving in South Italy before dinner,” he said.

Antonio nodded and shooed the kid away. He had fallen asleep in his hammock but somehow fell out and didn’t wake up. Aching, he slowly rose to his feet, ignoring the swaying of the ship below him, rubbing sleep from his eyes and mussing his hair. It was hard to believe that he boarded this ship for the first time fourteen years ago. Time flies when you’re adventuring.

Antonio picked up his sword and flintlock before joining the other pirates on deck. There was a lot of work to be done before they could pillage another village.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration behind the captain’s name is Armado “the Braggart” from Shakespeare’s Love’s Labours Lost, because I’m a nerd that way. Plus, the name makes for a convenient pun (Armado ➔ armada).


	3. End of the Line

A few months have gone by since Lovino found out about the pirate attacks in Corsica. He normally would have snooped around looking for a new dealer to do business with, but with the anticipation of pirates and the argument he had with Grandpa, he’d lost interest in the job. Most days he was content working at the bookstore with Grandpa while Feliciano did commission paintings.

Not pickpocketing during the evenings meant Lovino had more time to find the perfect birthday gift for his little brother, and he was going to take advantage of the fact that Feliciano was away for commissions to do it. He knew exactly what the perfect gift for Feliciano was and he finally had the money to buy it for him.

Lovino found the best woodworker in all of South Italy and commissioned the man to make a special box. The man is Syrian and he’s the best around at making damascus intarsia woodcrafts. The box took months to finish. It was four inches deep, about a foot long, and six inches wide, with a brass clasp at the front to close, deep green velvet lining on the inside, and mother of pearl inlay along a border framing stylized lilies made of wooden inlay of various shades of white, cream and brown. It was such a beautiful piece, he knew Feliciano would love it. He also bought various tubes of quality oil paints to keep in it. Now his brother wouldn’t have an excuse about leaving all his painting supplies strewn around the apartment. Lovino didn’t even care if the velvet lining would get ruined from the paints over time. It was a gift meant to be used and loved.

Of course, it was going to be hard to hide the box from his brother, since they shared the same room, so the day Lovino finally received the box from the craftsman and paid him his full due (plus a little extra, because damn, it’s beautiful), he paid a horse carriage to carry him out of town, towards the old farm house he and his brother lived in with their parents. This was the only place he knew Feliciano would never visit.

The carriage dropped him off outside the wooden gate leading up to the property. Lovino paid him the rest of the money he had. He was going to have to walk home in the morning. He walked down the overgrown path leading to the farmhouse holding Feliciano’s gift in a blanket under his arm. From the distance, Lovino could tell that it was in desperate need of repair. It was just a small, single-story wooden house with a thatched roof. It was on the coast, and by the sea, there was a dock where their father used to keep his fishing boat.

Having finally reached the end of the long road, he swung the unlocked door open and realized just how decrepit the place had gotten. There were mounds of dirt in the corners, and the roof caved into the main living area, allowing grass and plants to form a small circle in the middle of the room in front of the fireplace. Romano walked around the soggy floorboards below the gaping hole in the ceiling and headed towards the two bedrooms down the short hall. He avoided the room behind the closed door to his right and walked into the open doorway of the small bedroom he used to share with his brother. There were two child-sized bed frames on either end of the room and an old wooden rocking chair in the middle.

Lovino set the wrapped box down on one of the bed frames and sat in his mother’s rocking chair. This was the chair she sat in to tell them bedtime stories or sing lullabies to them, while they each lay in their beds listening and falling asleep. This was the chair Grandpa built for his only daughter, which is why it’s not surprising that it was still in good condition.

The room was basked in orange light as the sun set through the broken window. There was only a light breeze carrying the smell of sea salt wafting through the air. Lovino sat in his mother’s old rocking chair, closed his eyes, and cried. He remembered that she used to sit in this chair and sing until they both fell asleep. He remembered her voice, as crystalline and soothing as it always was. He remembered the last lullaby she ever sang…

_Ninna nanna a sette e venti,_  
_il bambino s'addormenti._  
_s'addormenta e fa un bel sonno_  
_e si sveglia domani a giorno._  
_Nanna ieri, nanna ieri_  
_e le sporte non son panieri_  
_e i panieri non son le sporte_  
_e la vita non è la morte_  
_e la morte non è la vita.  
_ _La canzone l'è già finita.*_

And he drifted off to sleep.

 

* * *

_“Lovi, when is Papà coming home?”_

_“I don’t know, Feli.”_

_“But he’s never been gone for this long!”_

_Lovino was starting to lose patience with his little brother. He’d been like this for three days now, ever since Mamma started spending most of her time in her bedroom with the door closed, sobbing in hushed tones._

_Papà had been gone fishing for two weeks now. It wasn’t unusual for him to be gone for long periods of time, since he sometimes went quite far where there would be more fish. The problem is that it was spring, and he promised he would be back in time to sow the crops._

_Lovino wasn’t worried, though. Papà always came back from his fishing trips. He was probably going to come back before the end of the week, and they would all be able to sow the fields together, just like they do every year._

_Right now, they were feeding the goats and pigs. Normally, Mamma would be with them, but after she ignored them yesterday when they tried to coax her to leave the room and eat something, they realized that trying again today would make no difference._

_After they’d finished feeding the farm animals, they started heading back to the house. Feliciano went for the front door, but held back when he noticed Lovino heading to the shed at the side of the house._

_“What are you doing?” he asked._

_“I’m going to start tilling the land. That way, there will be less work for Papà to do when he gets back.”_

_Now worried, Feliciano joined his brother at the shed. He knew the machine could be dangerous. That’s why Papà and Grandpa usually did it together._

_“Let me help you!”_

_“No, you’re just a kid.”_

_“So? You’re only two years older than me.”_

_“Yeah, well I’m 7. I’m practically a man already.”_

_Feliciano started to pout. He wasn’t about to let Lovino work alone. He knew better. When Lovino saw the determined look on his kid brother’s face, he had an idea._

_“Come on, Feliciano. I’ll be fine. Besides, someone has to look after Mamma and make sure she eats something. Why don’t you go make everyone some lunch.”_

_Feliciano’s face suddenly brightened with his trademark smile and looking up at his brother said, “but it’s always better when we cook together!”_

_Now exasperated, Lovino sighed. “Fine, we can cook together. I guess I’ll wait until Papà gets back.”_

_“Yay, Big Brother, let’s make some pasta!”_

_Feliciano took Lovino by the hand and half-dragged him out of the shed and into the house. It wasn’t long before it was filled with the smell of herbs and spices and the singing and laughter of children. The quiet sobs that previously filled the house were absent._

_*_

_When evening came, the boys had wrapped themselves in one of the larger blankets and were sitting in front of the fireplace to keep warm. With the exception of the buzz of insects and crashing waves, the house was quiet. Feliciano was drowsy and was laying his head on Lovino’s shoulder._

_“I miss Papà,” he said._

_“I already told you he’ll be back soon.”_

_“If he’s going to be back soon, then why is Mamma crying?”_

_“She probably just misses him too.”_

_Just then, Feliciano yawned. Lovino waited until the flames were down to cinders before nudging his brother awake._

_“Come on, Feli. It’s time for bed. Go ahead while I get some water to put out the fire.”_

_For the first time, that day, Feliciano didn’t argue. He rubbed his eyes and with the help of Lovino, he managed to stand up. He stumbled his way down the hall as Lovino went outside to fill a bucket with some sea water to douse the flames._

_He was only gone for a few minutes, and there was nothing unusual in the night, but for some reason he felt nervous. He was eager to get back inside to tuck his brother and himself into bed so this day could finally end. Something felt wrong, but he couldn’t figure out what it was._

_He came back into the house and before he doused the flames and extinguished what little light remained, he set the bucket down near the fireplace and secured the door and all the windows of the main living room. Satisfied, he poured the contents of the sea water over the flames, causing smoke and the smell of brine to fill the air. Setting the bucket back down, he headed down the hall._

_For the first time in three days, the door to the right was ajar. Lovino felt the feeling of nervousness creep back up and choke him with fear. Why was he afraid? There should be nothing to be afraid of. It’s just the bedroom his parents sleep in across the hall from where he and his brother sleep._

_But still, now spurred by apprehension, Lovino half-ran down the hall and found his brother standing in the door frame._

_And that’s when he noticed what was wrong. He realized why something felt wrong._

_The crying had stopped._ God _, when did the crying stop? Why hadn’t he noticed before now?_

_Laying his hand on his brother’s shoulder, Lovino took his turn to peer into the open room. There was a candle lit on the bedside table that lit their mother’s corpse hanging from a rafter, her dark brown hair framing her heart-shaped face, with her head tilted, arms hanging limp, and lips tinted blue._

_“Lovi…” Feliciano’s voice choked as the steady stream of tears fell down his heart-shaped face, a match for their mother’s. “Lovi, what’s wrong with Mamma?”_

_Panic surged through Lovino’s veins as his hand mechanically rose up to his face, covering his own mouth. His knees shook and his throat felt dry. What was he supposed to say to his brother? He needed to take control of this situation, he needed to take control of his emotions._

_He needed to get out._

_“Feli, come.”_

_But Feliciano was rooted. He wasn’t following. He was frozen in shock and denial of what he was seeing. Lovino put his arms around his brother and picked him up and ran out of the house, around the side. He carried him all the way to the animal shelter, where the goats were kept. With his brother still slung over his shoulder, he unbarred and kicked open the fence to the goat pen, and set his brother down in a bail of hay, out of sight of the house._

_Lovino held his brother’s face in his hands. Feliciano had stopped crying and was simply staring blankly into space._

_“Feli. Feliciano, look at me!”_

_Feliciano looked up, but his eyes were still unfocused. It was just enough to show Lovino he was paying attention._

_“Feli, I need you to stay here with the animals, okay? Don’t leave the goat pen until I come back for you.”_

_Lovino paused, waiting for some sort of reaction. Feliciano only slightly nodded his head, and let himself fall to his side, hugging his knees to his chest. Lovino wished he would cry or something, anything to show him he was still living, but the little boy was motionless and eerily quiet._

_He didn’t wait much longer. Lovino’s panic had dissipated and it was replaced with a purpose. He ran back to the house. He stopped by the shed first and rummaged around in the dark, looking for his father’s saw. Having found it, he went back into his mother’s room, set a chair next to her corpse and used the saw to cut the rope holding her up._

_He avoided looking at her. The first sight of her hanging there, gaunt features stretched thin and pale from recent malnourishment and sleep deprivation was sickening. Now she just reeked of death, and it made Lovino’s stomach coil being so close to her like this, but his job wasn’t done yet._

_Once that rope was cut through, her body, once graceful, slumped to the floorboards. Lovino felt bile rise up. But he had to stop thinking about it. He had to tell himself that this was like any of the other farm animals that were put down and needed to be carried and buried._

_So he slung her over his shoulder. She felt lighter. She wasn’t supposed to feel this light._

_He carried her to the backyard. He laid her down near the back of the house. The sea felt unusually loud tonight. Why was everything so loud? It was all so overwhelming._

_He ran back to the shed, this time looking for a spade. As he dug his mother’s grave, he tried to clear his mind, but he couldn’t stop thinking about what she had done and what Feliciano had seen. He should have never had to see her like this, and how could she be so_ stupidly selfish _to put them through this?_

_But no, she wasn’t selfish, and she wasn’t stupid either. What happened? He didn’t know. He would probably never know now. He dug deeper and deeper, and eventually, all he could think about was the last lullaby Mamma ever sang to him. The lullaby consumes his thoughts and he begins to sing it to himself — or to her. He’s not entirely sure anymore…_

*Lullaby at twenty past seven,  
The child falls asleep,  
Falls asleep and has a good sleep,  
And wakes up tomorrow at day-break.  
Lullaby yesterday, lullaby yesterday,  
Shopping bags are not baskets,  
And baskets are not shopping bags,  
Life is not death,  
And death is not life.  
The song is already finished.

_He should have noticed how her voice choked on these last words she spoke to them three days ago._


	4. So Much To Learn

_When daybreak finally came, they both rose in silence. Now that it was no longer dark, it was safe for them to travel. While Feliciano waited at the gate, Lovino walked to the house to gather snacks, and a change of clothes in a basket for both of them. They had a long walk ahead of them from the farmhouse to the city. Neither of them spoke on the way there. So long as they held hands, no words were needed._

_It was mid-morning by the time they arrived at Grandpa’s bookstore. Grandpa seemed confused to see his two grandsons without one of their parents, but before asking questions, he greeted them with hugs and kisses and let them into the house._

_“Bring this upstairs, okay?” Lovino said as he handed the basket to his brother. Feliciano nodded sharply and ran towards the staircase at the back of the bookstore._

_Once Lovino heard the door to the apartment upstairs close, he turned back to Grandpa and he broke down crying. He’d never cried before in his life. He thought his grandfather would be angry at him for being weak, but instead, Grandpa just knelt down in front of him and held him. Through his pants and sobs, Lovino was able to explain what happened in the night._

_They went upstairs and found Feliciano looking out the window with glazed eyes. Grandpa gave them something to eat, and that night, all three were curled up in his bed, one grandson on either side barely sleeping in the crook of his arms._

_*_

_Grandpa took them in. He managed to sell all the farm animals. He tried selling the house, but no one was willing to buy the farmhouse because their mother committed suicide inside and her body was buried unceremoniously in the yard. Some of the local farmers would whisper to each other that it was cursed and that the family was doomed for it. The house was unsellable. Grandpa decided to keep the house for when the boys were grown up. He intended to continue maintaining it so that one or both of them could move in once they choose to settle down with a family, but that plan had quickly fallen through the cracks. Neither of them would talk about what happened that night and Grandpa was hardly willing to ask._

_Several months went by and the boys were still grieving. Lovino began to distract himself by reading some of the books that came into Grandpa’s shop. He particularly liked the adventure stories and being able to lose himself in his imagination._

_Feliciano didn’t have as much of an interest in reading. Instead, he just sat around the bookstore watching Grandpa. He would listen as Grandpa sang, and he would observe when Grandpa drew. When he noticed Feliciano paying attention to him, he came back home with paper and pencils, and they used these to draw together._

_Neither of the boys spoke much during those months. Lovino lost himself in novels while Feliciano lost himself in his art. He became very good at it very quickly and soon enough, Grandpa started displaying and selling Feliciano’s art in the bookstore. He became popular rather quickly for it._

_Lovino thought of writing novels himself, but he hardly had the time, or the patience, to carry it through, and gave up on having a dream of his own._

 

* * *

__

_BOOM!_

Lovino was startled awake by an ear-splitting noise. He stood up suddenly and looked around, wondering where the sound came from.

_BOOM!_

Now fully awake, Lovino realized how distant the sound was. Remembering the rumours of pirates from a few months ago, he starts to sprint towards the front door. He crashes through his house’s front door and runs along the side of the house looking out at sea. He was squinting in the dark.

_BOOM!_

He saw the flash of light as it sped out from the sea to the city. Now it was clear to him. Those were cannon fire. There really were pirates attacking South Italy. Lovino realized how little time he had left. He needed to get back to the bookstore and deliver Feliciano’s present _pronto_.

Navigating himself in the dark, Lovino rushed back to the house to collect the box. Careful not to damage or drop it, he ran towards the city. He was determined to get there before the raid was over.

An hour later, he had just reached the outskirts, heaving and panting for breath. The cannon fire had stopped long ago, and there seemed to be no one left in the streets. They were all either dead or hiding. There was broken glass and small fires everywhere, so Lovino had to navigate himself carefully to get back to Grandpa’s bookstore without hurting himself, or more importantly, without getting caught by one of the many pirates still roaming and pillaging the city. Lovino could just barely hear the riots and chaos in the distance.

Grandpa sat his grandsons down weeks ago to discuss emergency plans in case they were in the city if the pirates attacked, so it’s not like they weren’t prepared. Thankfully, Feliciano was in Rome at the moment working on another commission, and at this hour, Grandpa would usually be at the bar with his friends, which had a hidden basement for occasions such as these. Unfortunately, Lovino didn’t exactly have a plan on how to safely get back into the city during a raid, so he was going to have to improvise.

As Lovino made his way home through alleys and shadows, he stumbled upon many bodies. He walked by many destroyed buildings, and the shops, restaurants, and bars still standing were broken into, raided and emptied. Most of the homes seemed to have been left alone, save for the nicer ones that held a promise of loot for pirates. Whatever pirates were still roaming at their leisure seemed to be drinking themselves stupid in otherwise empty bars, or chasing the local Italian women. It was complete chaos, and Lovino began to question why he had ever looked forward to their arrival. If he’d known they would be this destructive…

The roads were slick in parts, and Lovino couldn’t tell if it was water or some poor bastards blood, until he slipped in one and the smell of copper assaulted him. Disgusted, he got back up, picked up the wrapped box, and continued to sneak his way around to the bookstore.

The street on which the bookstore is situated was completely deserted and was covered in rubble, most likely from the cannonballs. Lovino felt highly at risk in the empty street. If a pirate happened to stroll down this way, he was certain to be shot down. He fumbled with balancing the box in his hands as he tried to unlock the door with his keys. Briefly, he noticed that Grandpa must have taken down Feliciano’s paintings and put them away somewhere, since the windows were empty, making it obvious once again that this was in fact a bookstore. He cringed from the ringing of the bell as he opened the door, as though it might somehow summon a murderous pirate. Closing the door behind him, he ran up the stairs two at a time and stopped in his bedroom. He finally let himself relax in the slightest and try to normalize his breathing. He’s never done this much running in one day before!

Unwrapping the box, he set it down on Feliciano’s bed and finding the nearest scrap of paper, he scribbled a note for his brother to find and laid it down on top of the box. His mission now accomplished, he let his knees give out from under him and collapsed on the floor. Sitting up and resting his back against Feliciano’s bed frame, he tried to figure out what to do next. He’d been anticipating, and even looking forward to the pirates’ arrival, but now he was having second thoughts. He couldn’t tell if he just craved the thrill of surviving the raid, or if he craved the thrill of their lifestyle and the adventure that comes with it.

He didn’t have time to make up his mind, because at that moment, the bell on the door downstairs sounded across the building. Someone had entered the bookstore.

_Shit!_

His breath caught in his throat and he froze as he waited to hear what would happen next. He didn’t hear anything yet. Whoever it was was in no rush to clamber up the stairs. Minutes went by and there was still no sound of anyone going in or out of the shop’s main floor. Lovino was starting to get suspicious. If it was Grandpa, he would have come upstairs by now. If it was a pirate, he would have heard stomping, glass breaking, shouting, _something_ , right?

This needed investigating. It was a good thing Lovino already knew where every creak in the staircase was so he was able to sneak down to the landing soundlessly and hide behind the curtain that separated the shop from the apartment. There was the slightest glimmer of light showing through the cracks along the curtain, and Lovino could just barely hear the sound of fluttering pages if he strained his ears enough. Carefully keeping quiet, Lovino parted the curtain just enough to peek and see who was in the shop.

There was a man that Lovino did not recognize sitting with his legs crossed, his back to the shelves and with a lit lantern by his side, which was giving off the light Lovino had noticed. He had a book in his lap and he was flipping through it. Now Lovino was downright confused. The city was in the middle of a raid, and here this man just casually strolls in, sits down, and reads a book like their world wasn’t fucking ending!

At least he was armed. He had a cutlass and a flintlock strapped around his waist. Lovino just needed to figure out whether he was friend or foe… He didn’t _look_ like a pirate, but he also didn’t recognize him as one of the local Italians either. He looked similar though, with an olive skin tone and brown, fluffy hair. But that was all Lovino could see from where he stood.

How long was he just going to sit there? Lovino was afraid to move or make any noise, because chances are, this man was a pirate. He was starting to feel cramped, and his lungs were aching from all the running and now the shallow breathing. He couldn’t stay like this much longer.

He was going to go back up to the apartment. The man seemed harmless enough and disinterested in raiding the house, so there was no point standing here watching him. Lovino closed the gap in the curtain and slowly worked his way back up the stairs. One step at a time, still holding his breath and straining his ears, he tried to count the steps to the apartment.

_Creak_.

Lovino stopped breathing. He had forgotten to avoid the creaks in the stairs. He closed his eyes and gripped his hands tightly along the railway to steady himself. He stopped and listened to see if the man downstairs heard it. _Dear God, just make him go away._

Now he was hearing footsteps. _Oh, fuck no_. He was coming for him now and he had nothing to defend himself with. He refused to move another inch until he heard the bell ring again, but he had no such luck. Instead, he heard the curtain behind him flutter and the staircase was lit from behind him with the light from the lantern he held.

“You there! Turn around.”

Of course. Of fucking course, the man sitting in the shop was a Spaniard. Of course he had to be one of the pirates. Of fucking course. Lovino didn’t exactly feel like getting shot in the back, so he reluctantly obeyed the Spaniard and turned around in the staircase. Heck, he even allowed himself the luxury of breathing normally for the first time tonight. There was no point keeping quiet anymore! He somewhat eased the pain in his lungs, but not the pain in his chest.

Now that he was finally able to have a good look at the man, he noticed that his eyes were green and that his face was smeared with dirt and soot. He also looked exhausted and not at all willing to use the sword his hand currently rested on, ready to wield if Lovino started being difficult.

“Do you speak Spanish?”

Lovino snorted, and in the most exemplary Spanish he can manage, replied “so you _are_ literate.”

“Are you making fun of me?”

“No! No. Just that my grandfather assumed we would be safe in our book store because he thought pirates would be too stupid to read.”

Lovino was starting to get nervous, and his voice was getting shaky. He didn’t want to let on that he was afraid to this stranger, and wanted to at least act brave. Strangely, the man didn’t seem as threatening as he could be. He felt his eyes wander over him, taking in every detail and observing his behaviour.

“What are you doing here? Why did you come into our shop?”

The other man seemed to ponder the question. “Captain gave us until dawn to do whatever we wanted.”

“And you chose to spend your leisure time in a bookstore, reading shitty Italian literature.”

The other man laughed. It sounded full of life and good days. The sound of it confused Lovino.

“I can’t read Italian.” Lovino was baffled. None of this made any sense to him. “I like looking at the pictures sometimes.” The man lifted his hand from his sword in favour of passing it through his hair and yawning. Dust particles fell out of his hair when he did. “I should be getting back, though. It’s been a long and eventful night for us. For you as well, I presume. Look—” He passed the lantern through the curtain again, drowning the staircase in darkness again and casting an ominous shadow. He was about to leave, but stopped to say just one more thing. “Do me a favour. You seem to be a good man, so try to stay low until we leave. It wouldn’t do you any good to draw unnecessary attention and get yourself killed.”

Then the man stepped through the curtain and made his way to the door. Just like that, he was about to leave.

Lovino didn’t want him to leave. This man fascinated him and piqued his curiosity in ways he hadn’t experienced before. He still had questions and he still wondered what it would be like to live like a pirate.

“Wait!” The sound of his own voice only half-surprised him. He still wasn’t entirely sure what he was doing. What ever it was, Grandpa and Feliciano would kill him if they found out.

He heard the steps stop. Lovino jumped down to the landing and appeared through the curtain. The man was standing at the door, his hand on the knob. He waited.

“Take me with you.”

The Spaniard raised a brow and looked at him curiously.

“What’s your name, Italian?”

“Lovino. My name is Lovino Vargas and I want to go with you. I want to… know what it’s like.”

The other man smirked and nodded.

“Unfortunately, I don’t make the decisions, but I’ll put a good word in with the captain. Come along, Lovino. You have a lot to learn. Oh, and you can call me Antonio. Antonio Carriedo.”


	5. Madreperla

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't feel like waiting to post it so here, consider this a bonus.

Feliciano had travelled for what felt like days to get back home. When he heard about the pirate raid in South Italy, he had become desperate to get back home to his Grandpa and his brother. The aristocrat that hired him in Rome wanted him to wait until he received word from his family, but seeing how agitated he was, he realized he wouldn’t be painting much anyway. He had paid for all of Feliciano’s fares back home, and for that, Feliciano was very grateful.

He was disheartened to see the destruction that had gone through the city, and feared the worst as he made his way to the bookstore, but was elated to see that it was still standing. In fact, the windows were still intact and it seemed as though nothing had been stolen. The door was locked, which meant that Grandpa and Lovino surely weren’t home right now. He didn’t bother locking it behind him after entering the shop. He could take care of the business here until they returned.

But first, he looked around the house. He wanted to make sure that everything was in order. After the destruction Feliciano had seen as he walked through the streets, he was surprised to find that Grandpa’s bookstore was untouched.

He first went into the back room behind the counter. He found his paintings in their allotted hiding spot and they were all accounted for. He made his way upstairs. The kitchen was undisturbed. Whatever panic Feliciano felt had dissipated and was replaced with relief in knowing that Grandpa and Lovino must have been unhurt in the raid and were surely helping neighbouring families in this disaster.

Now calm, Feliciano walked into his room and froze. He let his bag slip from his shoulder and slump to the floor as he walked the few steps left to his bed where a beautiful box was set down. There was a note on top of the box with hastily scrawled words saying, “Ti amo, fratello.” Feliciano was confused. Was Lovino giving him this box? His birthday wasn’t for a few more weeks. It wasn’t like Lovino to give gifts like this.

Feliciano opened the box. It was lined in green velvet and was filled with a large selection of vibrantly coloured and high-quality oil paints. He begins to wonder how his brother was ever able to afford this and begins to worry even more about where he might be.

Later that day, Grandpa eventually returned home. When he discovered the front door opened, he hoped Lovino would have finally come back home. Locking the door behind him, he ran up the stairs hoping to greet his grandson in his bedroom, where he usually brooded, but instead, he found Feliciano. He was sitting on his bed, holding a box filled with paint tubes.

“Grandpa. Where is Lovi?”

Feliciano did not look up as Grandpa froze. Where was he indeed?

“What is that you’re holding, Feli? Did the people that commissioned you give that to you?”

“No, Lovino left it here for me.”

“That makes no sense, Feli. Your birthday isn’t for a few more—”

“I know, Grandpa.”

It was all the confirmation Feliciano needed. Lovino wasn’t home. And he wasn’t coming home. The box he left behind was as clear a sign as any that Lovino was gone and did not intend to come back anytime soon.

 

* * *

“Stick with me, and the others won’t even look at you twice.”

“Why? What will they think?”

“They’ll assume I’m capturing you to sell as a slave, but don’t worry.” Antonio turned to face Lovino and flashed a mischievous smile. “You’re too pretty for that.”

“Wait, what—?!”

A shocked look crossed Lovino’s face as he halted in the middle of the street, causing Antonio to laugh, grabbing his arm and yanking him forward.

“Come on, relax! I’m only kidding. You’re wound up pretty tight for an Italian. Here, grab this.” He motioned for Lovino to hold the lantern while he climbed over a column that had fallen across the street. Once on the other side, he took the lantern back from Lovino and helped him climb up as well. “I thought you Italians were supposed to love dancing, and drinking, and singing! Oh well.” He turned again and walking backwards with yet another mischievous smile. “I guess I just picked myself up a broken one.”

“Ugh!” Lovino’s groan prompted yet another laugh from Antonio.

“I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy your company.”

“Hm.” Lovino didn’t want to admit it yet, but he had the same feeling about Antonio, even if he was annoying.

Antonio was honestly curious to see how this mildly sheltered-looking Italian boy was going to fare as a pirate. It didn’t seem to him as though he had any idea what sort of life he was getting himself into, but Antonio wasn’t about to crush his spirits yet. Instead, he wanted to show Lovino a little bit of the world outside South Italy, help educate him on how to survive, and then maybe he’ll turn out okay.

Just like when Armado first introduced him to the crew. He took him under his wing, showed him pieces of the world, in all its beautiful and ugly facets, raised him from the ground up, and Antonio was happy with his lot in life because of it.

Antonio believes that wisdom should always be shared and that’s just what he intended to do, starting with Lovino. He genuinely likes him, even if he did have a stick up his ass, but just like a literal stick up an ass, there was bound to be some wiggle room, and Antonio was determined to help the poor little man loosen up a little.

The rest of the walk to the wharf passed in relative silence. Lovino’s nervousness grew as they got closer and closer to the rowdy noise coming from the taverns on the coast. Naturally, this part of the city was currently the most lively, since most of the pirates seem to be having their “free time” in the bars closest to the ship.

The only light available was from the numerous lanterns lighting up the streets and the docks. The ship itself was almost entirely masked in darkness. There were a few lit windows, especially near the rear of the ship, or on the deck, but it was otherwise dark. All Lovino could really see of the ship is that it was a three-mast vessel and definitely much larger than his Papà’s fishing vessel. Lovino stood on the dock looking at it, still in a daze about the decision he seems to have made when Antonio cut through his thoughts.

“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Can’t really tell in the dark.”

“You’ll be seeing plenty of her in the future! Lots of time to admire her! Now then, we should get aboard and meet the captain. Follow me!”

Lovino quietly followed Antonio down the dock towards the plank to board the ship. His stomach was twisted in his gut and fear gripped his chest. He had every reason to be afraid, right? He was boarding a ship full of thieves, bandits, and murderers. It was bound to be dangerous, right? Lovino is a thief after all. That means he should fit right in, right?

He froze at the foot of the plank boarding the ship. He was looking down at his feet and the seawater below. He couldn’t help but think that Antonio didn’t seem like the kind of guy that would enjoy being a pirate, and yet he was such a cheerful man. Lovino couldn’t piece him together.

“Hey, why did you stop?” Lovino looked up at Antonio, already standing half-way up the plank and waiting. He wore a confused expression that probably matched Lovino’s. “If you’re having second thoughts, this is your last chance to turn back, but I won’t guide you home. You’ll have to walk past all those pirates alone...”

Lovino paused and considered that for a while. Was he having second thoughts? He supposed he was. He wasn’t guaranteed any protection here like he would be at home. It was a dangerous step he was taking.

And that’s why he took it.

He pushed down his fear and nervousness in order to follow Antonio on board the ship. Once on board, the ship seemed haunting under the light emanating from Antonio's lantern. Lovino felt disoriented under the web of ropes and masts overhead, just barely visible in the orange light. He continued to follow Antonio to a set of stairs leading below deck. Once below the main deck, Lovino could just make out rows of cannons along the walls. There was an acrid smell of gunpowder and smoke that permeated the air, most likely from earlier that night when they were attacking the city. Everything felt cramped in this space he would later discover was called the gallery. Trying to refocus his attention on Antonio’s figure, he followed him through a door at the stern of the ship. The room on the other side was fairly well lit with candles in sconces and lanterns hanging from the walls.

In the middle of the room was a large wooden table with several chairs around it and at the far end of the table, stood a man. If it wasn’t for the ugly, swollen scar down the man’s face, Lovino thought he might have been handsome. As it was, he seemed to be about middle-aged and well built, dark and dreadlocked hair tied back in a ponytail and in this lighting, his eyes looked so black that it was impossible to tell where his irises ended and his pupils began.

Upon entering the room, Antonio set his lantern down on the table at the opposite end and sat down in the chair, motioning for Lovino to sit beside him. The chair scraped uneasily across the floorboards. Once he was seated, Antonio introduced him.

“Lovino, I would like you to meet, my captain, Armado. Armado, this is Lovino Vargas, and he has voiced his interest in joining our crew.”

Armado let out a long sigh as he sat down as well and for the first time since entering the room, he looked up at the two men that have walked into his cabin uninvited. He carefully observed Lovino. Although he was young with a face that looked prone to pouting, it was obvious he looked strong, although slim. Armado rubbed his chin as he stared at Lovino, watching him squirm in discomfort. A slight smile twisted the corner of his lips.

“Toño, what makes you think he can survive?”

“I don’t know.”

As greatly offended as he was by the conversation taking place, Lovino knew now wasn’t the time to voice his irritation about it. He figured there would be plenty of time to smack Antonio for it and show him that _yeah, he can manage just fine, thank you_.

“I always knew you would pick a pretty face over brains, Toño. Listen Mr. Vargas.” Armado now turned his attention away from his pupil to his new guest. Lovino didn’t want to admit that the look the man was giving him was making him greatly uncomfortable, but he didn’t want to show signs of weakness, since that was surely what Armado expected from him. “Living at sea is not an easy life. There will be hardships and there may not always be an abundance of food. And God forbid we ever get caught by the military. That would really fucking suck. I don’t care why you want to be here. I just care that you know I won’t be there to protect you every step of the way. You’re on your own. Find your own allies, learn your own ways, and come and go as you please. Just know that if you want to be a part of this crew, you have to follow orders, you have to participate, and you have to work hard just like everybody else. Is this clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Don’t call me ‘sir’!” Armado’s voice boomed across the cabin, startling Lovino, but softened as he continued. “If you want to call me something, you either call me ‘Captain,’ or ‘Armado,’ or even better, you can call me ‘Captain Armado’. That is my name and that is my title. Nothing else.”

“Yes, s— uh, Captain.”

“Good.” His features softened into a genuine smile. “You’ll grow some real thick skin yet, boy. Now.” Armado stood up again and walked towards the window at the back of the cabin, looking out at the early dawn light, he continued. “Once the others board the ship, we’ll have a meeting to decide where our next stop will be. Up to vote, you see. I expect you to vote, too! Whatever our next destination is, that will be your initiation to our crew.” Armado turned back around to face Lovino. “Don’t worry, it won’t be much of a big deal. You’ll have lots of time to learn how we do things here. I only expect you to _survive_ the next raid. If you can manage that, then you can consider yourself an official member of our crew. You follow?” Lovino nodded shakily. “Good. Oh, and one more thing.” Armado turned yet again to look out the window. The crewmen were starting to board the ship. “Once we arrive at our destination and you somehow decide that you don’t want to be a criminal anymore, keep in mind that I won’t be giving you a free ride home. Understood?”

Lovino swallowed and gripped the sides of the chairs. Being left behind was better than being killed, right? He could turn back now and not bother going through the trouble but… where would be the fun in that? He’d come this far already, and there was no point in turning back now before the fun even began.

“Yes.”

“Good,” he said, turning once again to face Lovino with a wide and almost heart-warming smile, “Welcome to my _Madreperla_ , my heart and joy! Toño will show you around.”

Antonio nudged Lovino to rise from his chair, and together, they left the Captain’s cabin. There was no turning back anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Madreperla_ in Spanish means "mother-of-pearl". :)


	6. A Letter to Feliciano

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like everyone to say hello to APH Portugal and APH Scotland.  
> They were not planned, but they are here to stay 8)
> 
> Also, actual announcement regarding the posting schedule: I'm going to start posting them as I write them now. Hopefully that means I'll finish sooner. I'll still try to get in a minimum of one chapter per week, though.

_Dear little brother,_

_I’m writing this letter for you because I don’t want you to assume the worst about what happened. I’m grateful you were in Rome when the pirates finally came because it means I know you’re safe. I haven’t seen Grandpa since I left for the farmhouse, but I hope he was safe as well. Ha, who am I kidding? This is Grandpa Roma I’m talking about. The man is built like a brick shit-house. There’s no way any merry band of pirates could ever take him down!_

_But just in case… God forbid, but just in case Grandpa didn’t survive the raid, I want you to take my pillow, carefully undo the seam along the side, and take the cash that’s mixed in with the stuffing. It was originally meant as a nest egg for whichever one of us got a girl first, but things have changed, and hopefully for the better. I want you to use it as your emergency fund, in case you ever run out. It’s yours now._

_The fact is, I did a lot of thinking. I couldn’t take it anymore. I know you and Grandpa always wanted the best for me, but the truth is that it didn’t happen. Grandpa has his business, and you have yours, but all I have to say for myself is that I steal for a living. I can never be as talented as you or Grandpa. I don’t have any skills to be proud of, and it seems too late for me to gain any. You were the lucky one of the two of us, and I always felt like an outcast in our little home._

_I can hear the old ladies cursing my existence for burying our mother in the backyard when we were kids. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t leave her there. They cross the street when they see me, because I’m the little boy that killed his mother. I know it’s not true, but that’s what they say about me. I couldn’t take it anymore._

_It was time I spread my own wings and did something for myself. When the pirates came, I went with them. This way, you and Grandpa don’t have to worry about me getting into trouble anymore. I got rid of the “curse”. I already made a new friend, actually. His name is Antonio. He’s annoyingly cheerful, but I don’t mind it as much, because it reminds me of you, and how you always liked to smile when we were kids. I wish you would smile more like that again._

_You’ll be happy to know that when our raid in Greece is over, I can choose whether I stay or go. The captain’s only condition if I leave is that I don’t board the ship again to get a free ride. Armado (our captain) won’t outright kill me. Makes me kind of thankful that I’m such a good pickpocket because it means getting home would be a breeze, even from Greece._

_So how about it, little brother? This won’t be so bad after all. I haven’t decided if I’ll send another letter at another time. I guess we’ll see how everything goes for now. I’m sorry you won’t be able to send me letters while I’m away, so you should consider this goodbye for good. I hope you like the birthday present I left on your bed. It’s beautiful isn’t it. You better put it to good use and make the most of it!_

_I’m going to miss you, little brother..._

_With love,  
_ _Lovino_

 

* * *

__

Everyone on this damn boat speaks fucking Spanish, and only a handful are actually Spanish. The Portuguese guy is speaking Spanish. Heck, even the shitfaced Scottish drunk speaks Spanish. Man, that one’s useless, but Antonio swears he's the best navigator on the Mediterranean.

Suffice to say, Lovino was annoyed. They’ve been on the open sea barely a week and the only thing he was doing day-in and day-out was clean and pick up after these slobs. They have seriously let themselves go. He let the mop drop in its soapy bucket, straightened his back, and absently ran a hand over his face, wincing as he felt the stubble along his jaw. Pretty soon, he was going to be desperate for a shave, but for now, it was the constant Spanish drivel humming in his ears 24 fucking 7 that drove him mad.

He was so sick of it that he outright refused to speak it to anyone but Antonio or Armado. Everyone else could just speak Italian or deal with it. Unfortunately, his silent protest only served to annoy the rest of the crew, who now thought he was stupid. Their loss.

Leaning on the handle of the mop, he looked out at the wide expanse of sea. The skies were clear causing the blue of the sea and the blue of the sky to blend together, where one was indistinguishable from the other. It was kind of depressing, actually, but there was no point complaining about it now. Maybe somewhere down the line, he won’t find it so depressing anymore. The ship itself maintained the appearance of a Spanish military warship, so unless they actually hoisted their flag, no one at sea would know they were pirates until it was too late.

Just before they set sail, Armado gathered the crew on deck to decide on their next destination. Antonio piped up offering Greece as an option. Most of the rest shrugged, and with a general mutter of consent, they were off to Greece. There was no land in sight yet, but he’s told it will be soon. Those were Alistair’s estimates, and according to Antonio, “Ally’s never been wrong before.”

Speaking of Antonio, Lovino searched around the main deck for his new friend. Since today was relatively windless, they were staying on course easily, and most of the crew took it as leisure time (except for the lesser grunts such as himself who cleaned up after them). He found him sitting in the shade of the helm, talking to Enzo.

Enzo is “the Portuguese guy”, and he’s as much of a mystery to Lovino as Antonio. Same skin tone, same hair (but longer), same green eyes (but as an added bonus, with a mole under his right eye), and he even had the same carefree attitude about most things. He’s the guy that spent most of his time sitting in the crow’s nest on top of the main mast. He always had his goggles around his neck. Lovino thought he looked stupid, but he also figured it was probably windy up there. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say that Enzo and Antonio must be brothers.

Antonio’s other close friend is Alistair (or Ally, as everyone _affectionately_ calls him), the “shitfaced Scottish drunk.” He has flaming orange hair, and a face that looked like it was permanently sunburnt, but whether his face was red from actual sunburns or from being drunk 90% of the time, no one will ever know. Most of the time, he’s in the captain’s cabin, and the rest of the time, he’s actually on deck, navigating with the “tools of his trade.” Unfortunately, his Scottish accent made his mangled Spanish nearly incomprehensible, but everyone else seems to have just gotten used to it.

Pretty soon, a crowd of pirates had formed in the shade around Antonio. This is the first thing that amazed Lovino since he boarded the ship: how well liked he was among the others. Now they were starting to joke and laugh. Some would occasionally sneak a glance in Lovino’s direction as they did so. It doesn’t take a genius to know what they were joking about.

It’s amazing how much more annoying it is to work when you’re the only one actually working.

Acting almost on instinct, Lovino took the mop out of the bucket and tossed it aside. He’ll pick it up later when he can be bothered to do so. Then picking up the bucket full of soapy water, he calmly walked over to the cluster of pirates laughing about his supposed lack of Spanish and masculinity. Without warning, he overturned the bucket over Antonio’s relaxed frame, spilling the contents, shaking the bucket once or twice to get the last of it to spill out, as the group surrounding the pair stared in blunt silence. He gathered his most commanding voice and his trademark Italian snarl. “Get to work, you lazy piece of shit.”

Almost simultaneously, the other pirates with threatening glares rose, but Antonio shooshed them and gestured that they sit back down. “No, no, it’s all right. I’ve been meaning to take a bath anyway,” he said. Enzo was the only one to laugh; the other’s simply glared at Lovino.

Antonio stood up and turned to face Lovino. He casually ran a hand through his hair and fanned out his soaked shirt which was now sticking to his chest. He addressed Lovino in Italian. “So you don’t think manning the sails and steering the ship is hard work?”

“I wouldn’t know. You never let me.”

Antonio chuckled. “All you had to do was ask.” Lovino now felt his ears burn with embarrassment. Now he felt stupid. Before he could reply, Antonio continued. “I take it you never learned to use a sword properly, hm?” Lovino shook his head. “Then how about we start with that? After all, there’s no point teaching you to sail if there’s no wind for the sails to pick up. Come with me.” Switching to Spanish, he addressed the mob around them, “The rest of you stay here. Enzo, you come too. You can be our mediator.”

“Sure,” said Enzo.

Lovino and Enzo followed Antonio below deck to the gun gallery. It was slightly cooler below without the sun beating on their shoulders. It was dim, with the rays from an afternoon sun as the only source of light. At odd ends along the rows of cannons were barrels filled with an assortment of swords and shotguns left over from when the ship was still a military vessel. All were ready for emergency use in the event of an attack and a crew member was weaponless. Antonio kept walking until he reached the prow, where the barrels of rusted older swords were left. He rummaged into one of them and pulled out a wooden sword.

“You see, this way,” he said, turning to face Lovino, “I don’t have to go as easy on you.”

He handed Lovino the sword that was hanging at his waist. The real one. Lovino took the hilt, still wet from the soap water he’d dumped over Antonio’s head. “And what if I hurt you?” Enzo snorted in the background. Apparently he understood Italian as well.

Antonio stared him down as a smile tugged at his lips.

“You won’t,” he said, gripping the wooden sword in his hands.

Lovino tried to imitate his stance. He was vaguely aware that Enzo was sitting on a stool not far, yawning and watching him struggle. He had a vague feeling that he was laughing at him. Lovino turned his head slightly to catch a glimpse of him and see what he was up to.

And that’s when he felt the edge of the sword  hit him across the ribs. Antonio tsk, and said “You need to keep your eyes on your target!”

“Shouldn’t it be a good idea to keep an eye on my surroundings too?”

“Aren’t you already?”

Antonio lunged at him again, and this time, Lovino side-stepped him, and almost tripped over himself. Thankfully, Antonio let him regain his balance.

“So.” Antonio step forward to slash down on Lovino, which he barely managed to parry. “What’s an Italian boy doing with a Spanish surname?”

“What?” Lovino tried to slash, but Antonio side-stepped him and hit him in his lower-back. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you must have a little Spanish in you, hm?” Antonio slashed at Lovino’s calf, causing him to stumble. “Would you like a little more?”

Lovino could have sworn he saw the man wink at him as he slashed at him again, and this time, Antonio’s wooden sword landed on Lovino’s shoulder, causing pain to shoot down his spine.

“Isn’t this exciting, Lovino? Is your blood pumping yet?” He could only manage a groan as he gripped his shoulder, trying to massage the pain away. “Oh come on, a little wood never hurt anyone… I think.”

Somewhere not far away, Enzo snorted. “You could try to be a little more discreet.”

Antonio looked up at him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” A bright smile broke across his lips. He looked back down at Lovino, who was now scowling. He was furious.  “Hey, relax. I have a balm I we can put on that. You’ll feel better by tomorrow night, okay? You can take it easy until then. I’ll explain to Armado that you were training with me to prepare for the raid.”

Lovino’s features softened. It seemed impossible to hate this man. He handed back the sword to Antonio, who put his arm around his shoulders. Antonio was still wet from the water Lovino dumped on him. Now he regretted it.

“Let’s go down to the living quarters and have a drink,” said Enzo.

For the first time since boarding the ship, Lovino switched to Spanish. “That sounds really fucking good right now.”


	7. What the Crow Sees

Lovino may or may not have gotten drunk the night before. He also may or may not have gotten friendly with some other crew members. There may or may not have been a lot of singing, and he may or may not have gotten too close to Antonio at some point — as in, _physically_ close. No, wait, that doesn’t seem right. _What the hell did I do last night?_

He went about his morning cautiously, waiting to see how the rest of the crew would behave around him and trying to get some sort of clue about just how embarrassing his behaviour might have been last night. He was going to have to ask Antonio about it… Once he finds him. As it was, he did notice that the crew’s attitude towards him was different. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but it irked him. He really needed to find Antonio and get to the bottom of this.

But first, he really needed to shave.

“You’re looking a little lost.” Startled, Lovino turned about looking for whoever was talking to him. There wasn’t anyone there a moment ago. “Which I know is impossible, since you’ve already been on board here for over a week.” Antonio appeared from the deck below (the supply deck), holding a large mug — and looking clean-shaven. “Here, drink this.”

“If you’re giving me more wine, then I’ve got news for you.”

“Wine in the morning? That’s a new one.” He gestured again for Lovino to take the mug. “It’s water.”

Lovino gratefully took the water and started gulping it down. “Thanks, but I was actually looking for a shave.”

“Oh, right! I guess you wouldn’t have come prepared. You can borrow my razor until you get yourself one in Greece.”

“I don’t have any money,” said Lovino as he followed him towards the part of the living quarters where he kept his trunk.

“I didn’t say anything about _buying_ it.” Antonio stopped and knelt down in front of his trunk, unlocking it, and rummaging through it before pulling out his straight-blade razor and a pot of cream. “I guess you’ll eventually need a change of clothes too. And a trunk of your own…” he said, pulling out a mirror and hanging it on the nearby pillar.

Lovino sat on the stool in front of it and started shaving. “So, uh, what exactly happened last night?” he asked tentatively.

Antonio closed his trunk and sat on it. “What happened is you got very drunk. It was cute, really.” Lovino felt his face inflame and hoped the lather did a half-decent job of hiding it. “There was a lot of singing, especially on your part. I think I can safely say it caught everyone here by surprise to discover that you’re actually a very good singer.”

“Nice compliment, bone-head, but I know you’re just trying to flatter me.”

“I’m serious! Just ask Enzo when you see him.”

“Yeah, whatever. What else?”

“The usual: jesting, laughing, dancing… Draping yourself over me as you were passing out was a nice touch. I’m flattered, actually.”

“Wait, I what?!”

Antonio was visibly amused by the embarrassed look on Lovino’s face. He motioned for him to finish shaving. “Yeah, you snuck up behind me and draped your arms over my shoulders. Then, you passed out. That’s when I did the responsible thing and carried you to your hammock to sleep in peace.”

Lovino finished shaving and wiped his face with the cloth Antonio handed him. Now he was even more embarrassed. _What the Hell was I thinking?_

“So why is everyone behaving differently with me now?”

At this, Antonio chuckled. “Because they actually like you now. You let loose, showed your true self, and now they are satisfied with what they’ve witnessed. It helps that they know you were just being a piece of shit and was willingly not speaking Spanish. It’s amazing how easily you switch between the two languages. I’m impressed!” He got up and started putting his things away again.

Lovino was feeling a dull ache in his shoulder since he woke up that morning, but the pain grew worse as he shaved. At first, he thought he just slept awkwardly, but he wasn’t so sure now. So before Antonio could take down the mirror, Lovino brushed his shirt aside in order to bare his shoulder and reveal the massive purple bruise that had formed just over his shoulder in the shape of the wooden sword.

“Oi, that looks like it must hurt,” remarked Antonio.

“No thanks to you, bastard.”

Ignoring him, Antonio pulled up behind him with the same bottle of ointment from the day before and started to rub the balm on Lovino’s shoulder. “I guess I could’ve gone a little easier on you.”

“Here’s a crazy idea: we don’t do it again, hm?”

“You’re hardly an expert yet, so that’s not happening. I guess I could let Enzo have a stab at you…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I think that came out wrong.”

“You think?!”

“Well,” Antonio finished putting his things away and locked up his trunk, “remember that it’s also thanks to me you have today off. I’m going on deck to work now that the wind has finally picked up. You know where the swords are, so don’t be afraid to practice.” Antonio turned to walk away. “Oh, and go easy on yourself!” He beamed his usual bright smile and continued on his way to the main deck, leaving Lovino sitting behind.

*

Once Lovino was alone in the living quarters, he went up to the gallery to see if he could practice swinging the sword about. Going up the ladder was a painful chore and once he made it to the gallery, gave up on practice. The bruise on his shoulder ached too much to do much of anything with it. Instead, he sat down and waited for the pain to go away. The balm helped, but it can only do so much to ease sore muscles.

So instead of doing what he should, he listened. The _Madreperla_ creaked as she swayed in the waves, and the wind whistled as it blew through the open portholes along the gallery. Up on the main deck, men were running and shouting commands, steering the ship with the new wind that picked up in order for her to sail in the right direction. Lovino had been on that deck and seen enough to know that Armado would be at the helm steering the rudder, with Alistair by his side, giving directions, while Antonio would be running about the deck telling the crew what to do so that everything can run as smoothly and efficiently as possible. If Enzo wasn’t in the crow’s nest, he was on deck joining the crew with the rigging and sailing. The rest of them, Lovino included, just did their best to stay out of the way and avoid any accidents. On mildly windy days, there was less work, and more cleaning, but this was a very windy day, and it was best if Lovino stayed below deck.

On the other hand, he also needed to learn how to steer the ship if he was going to be able to do anything but clean. That meant he needed to get up there and watch them in order to learn from them. Antonio said that they were starting to like him, so maybe they wouldn’t mind answering questions. All he had to do was ask…

It was a slow process, but Lovino made his way to the top of the ladder, and peaking his head out, he looked about to make sure he wasn’t in anyone’s way.

“Lovi, what are you doing?”

Lovino turned his head to find Antonio walking briskly towards him. It crossed his mind that this was the first time he called him by his nickname, but before he could question the use of it, Antonio knelt down and helped Lovino onto the main deck, dragging him towards the helm.

“Ow, hey!”

“Seriously, what are you doing on deck?”

“I’m supposed to learn how to do this shit, so I kind of need to _be here_ to do that.”

Antonio sighed, looking about and making sure nothing had gone out of order since Lovino’s distraction. “Okay, fine. Just don’t— don’t touch anything so you don’t hurt yourself. If you have questions, ask.” He walked away before Lovino could reply.

For the rest of the day, he shadowed Antonio, listening and observing everything he said and did. He noticed that “starboard” meant right, and “port” meant left. He understood which direction to turn the sail in order to turn the ship, and thanks to explanations from Antonio and Alistair regarding physics and navigation, he understood how the three sails worked together to keep the ship from straying off course. The maze of ropes and how they worked still confused him, but he was promised that rigging was something he would learn from practice rather than theory.

He also noticed things about Antonio he hadn’t noticed before. He noticed how his face scowled in determination when he was afraid, and he noticed how contagious his smile was when everything went smoothy. His habit of running his hand through his hair was explained when he noticed pearls of sweat beading on his brow when he strained himself and how he always ran his hand through his hair to keep it from sticking to his face. He noticed the bags under his eyes and wondered what kept him up at night. He noticed how his eyes became hollow when he thought no one was looking, and it reminded Lovino of his own brother and how he looked when their mother died and their father never came home. He wanted to know why that same haunted look appeared on Antonio’s face.

“Antonio! Take your charge, and meet me in my cabin!”

Recovering from his surprise, Antonio shouted back “Coming!” and nudged Lovino to follow. _His charge?_

Looking up, Lovino noticed someone else had taken the wheel. Armado and Alistair were no where to be seen. Someone else had already taken over Antonio’s job. Lovino was still amazed by how efficient this crew really is.

The two of them went down to the gallery and walked into Armado’s cabin, just like they did the night Lovino joined the crew. This time, Armado was already seated at the head of the table, and Alistair sat next to him. Antonio went to sit on Armado’s other side and motioned for Lovino to sit next to him.

“Ally thinks we’ll be within Greece’s waters by dusk.” Armado turned to look at Lovino. “Since this is your first time on a raid, I think it’s a good idea to explain to you how it works. Ally.”

“Hm? Oh, right.” Alistair cleared his throat. In his usual garbled Spanish, he began his explanation. “As you might have already guessed from our raid in Italy, we like to use the element of surprise. We send some men on barges to the coast after the sun sets. Once they arrive, they send us a signal to fire our cannons at will, forcing the inhabitants to hide or evacuate. The men already on land kill any military that try to board ships to attack us. They’re the first to be raided.”

“Once the vessels are taken, we receive another signal from one of the ships, and we bring the _Madreperla_ into the wharf,” continued Armado. “That’s when the fun part begins. We raid the ships for supplies, such as gunpowder, and cannons. We raid the town for food to last until our next stop. We raid for gold, jewels, and money. We board the ship again, and we’re off on our merry way. Questions?”

“Does it always go as well as it did in Italy?” Lovino asked.

“No, sometimes men die,” answered Antonio. “But usually we have one or two men willing to join our crew. The loss isn’t as tragic as you might think.”

“And all I have to do is survive this?”

“Aye.” Armado rubbed at his chin and neck. He seemed exhausted. “Survive the raid, and you can consider yourself an official member of our crew. That’s why you’ll be among our first men to land.”

Lovino’s skin prickled with fear. Among the first men meant going in on the barges right? He was going to have to fight soldiers. He couldn’t even land a hit on Antonio when he was just play-fighting. How was he supposed to survive this?

“I’m sure you’ll find a way to survive,” said Antonio, beaming that contagious smile of his.

“Yeah, you managed to survive on board the ship this long with that shitty attitude of yours,” continued Alistair. “So I’m sure surviving a little brawl with trained military officers

will just be a bloody breeze for you.”

Armado began to chuckle, but stopped when the door to his cabin swung open and Enzo walked in, still sporting his goggles.

“We have a bit of a problem,” he said as he strode in. “I spotted Ottoman ships on the horizon. It looks like they’re forming a barrage.”

The laughter had been wiped from Armado’s disfigured face and was replaced with a look of contempt. He turned to Alistair and barked his order. “Turned this ship around before they spot us.”

Alistair did not hesitate to jump from his seat and run to the deck. Without their element of surprise, they couldn’t attack.

“What’s happening?” Lovino asked.

Armado simply snarled and followed Alistair and Enzo back on deck. Antonio slowly rose and walked towards the door. “A barrage means they knew we were coming,” he said. That dark, frightened look re-appeared on his face. “I have work to do. She’s a fast ship, but she still needs the right nudge to get to the right places.” He left, leaving Lovino sitting alone, and still frightened, although where he used to be frightened for his own life, now he was scared for all of them. If the ship sank, he sank with it.

He had work to do too.

When he got back on the main deck, everyone was franticly rigging and steering, trying to change the ship’s course, but the wind was at her back, and it was going to take a lot of manpower to get her to turn a straight ninety-degrees port-side and away from the Ottoman military ships. He finds Armado and Alistair at the helm with a spyglass, but it hardly seemed necessarily. Even without it, Lovino could see the row of ships, back-to-back, forming a blockade to stop any ships from going in or out of their borders.

Lovino went to join them on the helm, and asked “is there anything I can do to help?”

Armado’s voice barely rose above a whisper: “There’s nothing that can be done but fight, now, boy. They’ve spotted us.”

Lovino looked out at sea towards the blockade. Sure enough, one of the ships was advancing towards them. Antonio must have noticed too, because he appeared by Lovino’s side, short of breath. “We should disguise as a Spanish frigate. Unless they board, they won’t know the difference, and we can sail away without a fight,” he said.

Armado seemed to be considering his words, but before long, he nodded in agreement. “Enzo! Hoist the Spanish flag!”

From the crow’s nest, Enzo untied the ropes holding the flags in place, and let the Spanish flag fall, a red and jagged cross on a white field. Lovino looked up at the unfamiliar flag. “What’s happening? What are we doing?” he asked.

Armado walked up to him, and laid his hand on his shoulder. Squeezing down on his bruise, making Lovino wince, he said, “We’re playing at diplomacy.” A jagged smile formed on his lips. Then he addressed the crew. “Everyone, it’s time to play dress-up! You’re _all_ part of the Spanish militia now, so make the most of it!”

“What do I do?”

Antonio reappeared by his side, and said, “you do _nothing_.”

“Bu—”

“I’m serious, Lovi! This has never happened before and we’re all just improvising here. Your shoulder is still injured, and I’m sorry for that. Let us take care of the Turks. Please, just hide, and stay safe.”

Lovino watched as Antonio eyes clouded with worry, and it suddenly didn’t seem so much like a mystery anymore what kept him awake at night. So he nodded, and Antonio went to take his place with the others as Lovino went back down to the gallery, where he could still listen as he hid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turkish ships, ‘cause Greece is still under Ottoman Rule in this time period.


	8. Last Resort

“Grandpa, how could you?”

“I didn’t have a choice, Feli.”

“Of course you had a choice! You could have just left it alone!”

“And what if he had died in Greece? I would never be able to live with myself if I had done nothing.”

“Don’t you know what they do to pirates? You sent Lovino to his grave.”

“I know what they do to pirates and _that’s why_ I asked the Greek authorities to keep an eye out for him and hold him captive until I can pick him up. Heracles is a good man. I know he will do whatever he can to help.”

Feliciano was standing behind a chair instead of sitting across from his Grandpa. He was too angry to sit still. It was a completely foreign emotion for him and it made him wonder how Lovino managed to be so angry all the time. It was exhausting. But Grandpa had done something very foolish. Feliciano was still looking at him sternly, something he never thought he would do to his own grandfather.

“You promised to protect him no matter what.” Feliciano spoke barely above a whisper. He felt like he was hissing, but he hated shouting at his family, and what little he had left was sitting in front of him at the table.

“And I intend to keep that promise. Why can’t you see it? That’s exactly why I sent that message.”

The sun had set long ago and the only light came from a candle on the table that barely illuminated their faces and the tired expressions they carried.

“I know you’re worried about your brother. We both barely slept last night, or the night before. I will find him and I will make things right with him. This is why I have to go to Greece, and that’s why you need to stay behind and—”

“Why can’t one of your friends stay behind instead? If you’re going to get Lovi, I’m going with you!”

Roma sighed and laid his aching head down on the table. As usual, arguing with one of his grandsons is turning into an uphill battle.

“If I go with you, you’ll be able to protect me better,” continued Feliciano as he sat beside his grandfather. “If I stay behind, who knows what might happen? I would be safer if I stayed by your side.”

Roma sighed again and holding Feliciano’s hand in his own, said, “ever the sly one, aren’t you?” He rose from his seat. “I’ll think about it. But right now, we try to sleep.”

Roma didn’t miss the unmistakable twinkle in Feliciano’s eyes as he rose in turn and hugged his grandfather goodnight. Roma wondered, not for the first time, what he did to deserve such trouble-makers as grandsons.

 

* * *

Lovino hardly paid attention to the 40 or so men that followed him into the gallery before the Turks could catch sight of them. If they were lucky, they could still operate with surprise on their side. The wind was at their backs, which meant the Ottoman ships were going to have to sail against the wind. The _Madreperla_ was now parallel to the blockade ahead, and ready to sail south as quickly as possible.

“Don’t look so nervous, lad,” said a nearby crew member. Lovino didn’t know his name yet. “This is a Spanish frigate. She’s fast and highly maneuverable. Even if they did manage to gouge a hole in her side, we could escape them.”

The man seemed very sure of himself that they were going to get out of this alive. Lovino wasn’t so sure, but there was no way in Hell he wasn’t going to try and make this escape happen as soon as possible. All the men that gathered below deck have positioned themselves along the guns facing the incoming Ottoman ship, which was making a circle as it approached in order to flank the _Madreperla_.

It looked like Lovino wasn’t getting the day off after all.

“Is there anything I can do to help with my busted shoulder?” he asked.

“Sure. You can partner up with me at one of the cannons.”

Lovino followed the man to one of the 20 cannons along the gallery. He watched as the other man loaded it. He gave Lovino instructions on how to fire the cannon and then they waited. And waited.

And waited…

 

* * *

Enzo crawled down the mast from the crow’s nest and as he jogged to join him, Antonio couldn’t help but think he looked like an excited puppy that just found a new toy to play with. Taking his place by Antonio’s side, he nodded at Armado with a wide grin across his face. Armado returned the nod, but not the smile. “Try not to piss yourself,” he said. This only inspired a wider grin, if that were possible, followed by an “aye, aye!”

Armado turned to Alistair. “Go join the others below deck.”

“Hold on, why are you sending me down with the gunners? I’m a much better fighter than half the bloody lot up here!”

“I’ll keep that in mind if I fight breaks out. Until then, this is a Spanish frigate, and you are most definitely not Spanish.”

Alistair threw his arms up in order to protest more, but Armado  simply crossed his arms over his chest and set his jaw, daring him to continue. When Alistair saw there was no arguing, he huffed and went down to the gallery. He positioned himself below the trapdoor separating the main deck from the gallery where he could hear what was being said and give orders to the gunners when needed.

Now everyone was waiting to see if they really could fool the Turks into believing they were a part of the Royal Spanish Navy.

“Congratulations, Toño,” said Armado as he took position with the other riggers. “You’re our new captain.” Armado gave him a wink before leaving Antonio and Enzo alone at the helm, both puzzled.

The ship was approaching. Antonio needed to come up with a plan where fighting was a last resort.

*

The sky had turned orange with the setting sun by the time the Ottoman ship pulled up parallel to the _Madreperla_. By then, Antonio had a plan.

Their cannons were loaded and ready to fire. Every man on deck had a weapon on hand. They were prepared for the worst. Avoiding a fight altogether was ideal, since there was a blockade full of enemy ships to chase them away, but they were prepared for one nonetheless.

And yet Captain Armado smugly entrusted this predicament to Antonio, whether as a test of leadership or a sign of trust, Antonio couldn’t tell and would have to ask later. To the rest of the crew, it was no secret that Antonio was cunning and could charm his way out of this mess, and Armado saw this as a rare opportunity to put his particular skills to good use.

The Turkish soldiers steadied their ship next to the _Madreperla_. A tall and broad-shouldered man that looked like he could be the captain said something in Turkish to them, and Antonio could only reply that he didn’t understand Turkish. Then another man, almost as tall and broader, dark short hair and a dark complexion stepped forward and in clumsy Spanish, said, “We ask permission to board your ship! This is only a security measure!”

Antonio nodded for them to board, and as soon as they received his permission, they took out a plank. The captain, the translator, and a handful of soldiers boarded the _Madreperla_. Since Antonio was the first to address them, they assumed he was the captain.

The Spanish-speaking one was the first to talk. “My name is Sadık. This,” he said, pointing to the one Antonio assumed was the captain, “is Captain Hakim Aslan.” _Figures._

The captain turned to Sadık and said something in Turkish, most likely the speech he was ordered to say to incoming ships.

“My captain would like to apologize for the inconvenience caused by our blockade. The Ottoman Empire has decided to increase security when we received word that pirates were expected to raid the shores of Greece.”

Oh. Oh dear, this is inconvenient. _But what a wonderful opportunity! This is so much better than I planned._ Antonio gleamed a wicked smile at the men standing before him.

“Yes, we’re aware of the pirates, Mr. Sadık. You see, we’re just a small elite force that was sent out to capture these pirates and bring them back to the Kingdom of Spain for justice to be served and reclaim our lost vessel which they have stolen.”

Sadık raised a brow, clearly sceptical about Antonio’s story, but he relayed it nonetheless to his captain. They murmured amongst themselves back and forth before Sadık eventually turned back to Antonio.

“What is your name?” said Sadık.

“Captain Adrian, loyal servant to our King Carlos the Second.”

“Captain Adrian, my commanding officer finds it strange that the King of Spain would bother sending a single vessel out to capture a small band of pirates.”

“Well then, pardon me for being rude Mr. Sadık, but clearly, your commanding officer has not heard nearly enough about this particular band of pirates. They have eluded us for far too long, and have murdered and pillaged too efficiently. They are ruthless murderers and thieves, and some of our most hardened criminals have joined their ranks. It would be best if their infamous activities were stopped, so as not to tarnish the name of our great Kingdom through their use of one of our own vessels.”

Antonio waited patiently as Sadık conveyed his words to Captain Aslan.

“And how exactly did you intend to capture your pirates?”

“Well, as you’ve already noticed, we’ve been masking ourselves as an ordinary merchant vessel. Unfortunately we had to hoist our flag in order to send a clear message to you and your troops. If we may lower it once again, it would greatly help our efforts to capture them.

“As I’ve already told you, sir, they’ve been eluding us for a long time, and just as you have, we received word that they were intending to attack Greece, and rushed to beat them here. We will hide in the cliffs along the side right over there—” Antonio pointed off to the side ahead where the _Madreperla_ was heading towards “—and we will await their arrival. Once they are within sight, we will attack before they can reach your blockade.”

Sadık still didn’t seem convinced by the plan, but he dutifully relayed Antonio’s words to his captain. Captain Aslan never took his eyes off Antonio as he stroked his beard and thought about what should be said next. He still didn’t take his eyes off Antonio as he addressed his men in Turkish. By then, a band of the crew had created a circle around the small group of Turks, cornering them in such a way that the only way to go was back on their own ship by use of the plank. The Turkish soldiers became agitated and their backs became rigid, but Antonio felt no need to call the men off. They were free to do as they pleased now.

Sadık was too calculating to be swayed by Antonio’s charm and he made suspicion creep into his captain’s mind. Antonio saw that there was no other way left then their last resort, but they couldn’t be the first to move. They had to maintain the appearance of benevolence until it was too late. He conveyed this to his men by the ease in his shoulders and his aloof composure.

He wasn’t afraid. This meant that the rest of the crew had no reason to be afraid and that the Turks had many reasons to be afraid;132 reasons, to be precise.

Sadık finally spoke up, as though to continue the dialogue, but Antonio knew better. “I’m afraid we won’t be needing your assistance in capturing the pirates.”

This was it. The gig was up.

As soon as Sadık finished his sentence, the handful of men standing behind him raised their guns and shot the nearest pirates standing in there way. Turkish men were making their way on board the ship jumping over the railings, running across the plank, soaring past the rigging, shooting and slashing as they went, and Armado’s crew fought back savagely.

Below, there was the roaring thunder of 20 cannons shooting simultaneously, leaving 20 gaping holes in the Turkish warship’s flank. Armado hurried to the helm as Enzo dumped the plank into the sea, effectively leaving the 20 or so Turks stranded on their ship.

Antonio positioned himself in front of the ladder leading below deck. He made it his mission to protect the men below who were still loading and firing their cannons at the enemy ship.

No one was getting past him. Several tried. They were not Lovino, and he would not go easy on them.

He couldn’t rely on the flintlock in case he injured one of their own. Unsheathing his cutlass, he turned to the nearest Turk, slashing his gun out of his hands, and plunging the sword in his throat, letting blood spill over the deck.

One down.

Another to his left, a quick slash to his gut, and a kick backwards, trampled by another crew member. In his peripheral vision, he sees Armado throw another man over his head and into the sea, while Enzo chops another man’s leg off.

Four down.

This is when he loses count and loses himself in the blood lust of battle. There’s a sound of splitting wood as the ship sways heavily under their feet. They’d been hit, but now wasn’t the time to worry. He regains his balance and cuts down another Turk. He feels a sharp pain in his arm, an elbow to the head. He slips in blood and falls, and rolls before someone’s sword can bury itself in his face.

He rolls to his feet and slashes at the Turk’s face, turns, catches another in the gut, turns, the butt of a gun hits him square in the face, but the man crumbles at his feet with Enzo’s sword dug into his back.

Everything stops.

Antonio hears ringing in his ears, but he sees the last living Turk onboard sitting on his ass and surrounded by men, his back to the railing. It was Sadık.

“Catch him, men!” bellowed Armado from the helm. Antonio looks up and sees the Turkish ship sinking in the distance. The others were not following them. They’d won and were sailing away. “Take his weapons and tie him to the mast! We’re going home!”

Enzo leaned over Antonio, still laying on his back. His head hurt and his ears were still ringing, but the adrenaline made it bearable.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” said Enzo, picking up the wounded Spaniard, dragging him below deck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A wild (APH) Turkey appears. Handle with care. Becomes aggressive when startled.


	9. Aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to take the time to thank everyone for their comments so far! I really do appreciate them a lot and they never fail to make me smile <3

Sadık couldn’t help but hate the situation he was put in. Thinking about how he and his fellow soldiers were taken down by glorified sea urchins was unbearable. He couldn’t even understand why they were keeping him at all. Was he just some source of entertainment for them? Another thought he couldn’t bear. Not to mention that there was no way in blazing Hell his people were going to come and get him. They most likely assumed he was dead like the others that fought on this pirate ship.

This ship that sailed and eluded authorities like a ghost with a thirst for vengeance that could never properly be satisfied, never finding peace —  a never ending Hell.

They weren’t very gentle when they grabbed him and dragged him to his feet. They stripped him of his overcoat and his sheath, leaving only his undershirt, pants, and boots. Then they tied his wrists together at the front and then tied them to the sturdier main mast. This allowed him to sit with his arms raised or to stand. For the time being, he chose to sit, preferring the chafing pain in his wrists to the unease he would suffer in his legs, but being in this position overnight had caused his wrists to bleed, and his legs to cramp, so he wasn’t in a much better position after all.

Once they reach land, he’ll have to find a way to escape them. They couldn’t keep him forever… unless they starved him to death. A sinking feeling washed over him when the realization hit: what if they did starve him? He wouldn’t have the strength to escape them. If that was their plan for him, he wasn’t going to stick around and let them toy with his life like that. No one had that right; not even the sultan.

One way or another, he was getting off this ship.

At least he had the satisfaction of knowing his men were able to blow a hole in their pretty little ghost ship. They would have to be lucky to hit land before she sinks in a storm.

 

* * *

Armado wasn’t the least bit _amused_ by their new “guest”. He wasn’t pleased to have another mouth to feed before they could restock the supply deck and he resented him for the 17 dead crew members and the hole in the ship’s flank. Granted, his 17 dead men and un-sunk ship were better results than their 22 dead Turks and sunk ship, but nonetheless, Armado was pissed, and he was going to take it out on this miserable new prisoner.

But first, he needed answers regarding this so called tip of their visit to Greece.

So holding a tray of dried meats and a chair, Armado took his time walking over to the main mast, where Sadık sat with his face distorted in fury. Perhaps Armado will laugh later about how pointless Sadık’s rage towards them was. For now, he set his chair down facing Sadık and started eating from the tray of meats he’d brought with him.

He ate while maintaining eye contact with the disgruntled Turk, occasionally wriggling his eyebrows and prompting laughs from the few men standing around and observing the scene, these men that were mopping the blood from the deck before it could dry or seep through the floorboards. The bodies have already been dumped overboard for whatever beasts below that wanted them.

“I suppose this means you intend to starve me,” spat Sadık.

Armado took his time finishing his bite. “Mm, that’s not the plan, Turk. At least, not yet.” He licked his fingers. “If you refuse to cooperate, it won’t break my heart to see you starve.” He took another large bite

“Keep eating like a starving dog and you’ll choke, old man.”

“Ha! You think you’d like that don’t you!” Armado took another bite. Now he was chewing loudly, for emphasis. “You know, the politics involved in piracy are different than those of your empire. We can’t intimidate men into joining our crews, and we can’t force them to work; the people that become pirates do so out of their own free will. So what do you think happens when you force a large group of free-willed men to follow a bad leader they don’t particularly like?”

Armado took another mouthful of meat, waiting to see if Sadık would answer. When he just shrugged, Armado continued.

“You get a mutiny. The bad leader is killed, sometimes horribly, he’s deserted on an island where he can’t survive, or the men simply walk away. No captain wants that, right?”

“Why are you telling me all this?”

“I’m getting to that,” said Armado through another mouthful of meat. “This is why pirates developed a sort of democracy. It’s the crew that chooses the captain — not the other way around! I’ve been captain here for almost 20 years. I’m getting tired of this shit and it’s only a matter of time before I die or retire. The crew knows, and they’ve already decided on a replacement for me. In fact, you’ve already met him.”

Sadık briefly remembered the man he was addressing the day before. He’d called himself ‘Captain Adrian’, but Sadık knew by now that he was lying.

“I can promise you, _old man_ ,” said Armado, emphasizing the last two words with a tone of contempt. “You think I’m an ugly piece of shit man, but you don’t want to get on Antonio’s bad side. I love him as I would love a son, and he’s charming and likeable, but that charm and ease of presence of his can easily be replaced with bloodlust and cruelty.”

Sadık started laughing. More and more, these pirates were looking like a joke to him. Armado joined in his laughter. Soon, the entire main deck was laughing along and no one knew exactly why.

Not far off, Sadık heard what he assumed to be a string of Italian curses. He looked to the side, and sure enough, there was an Italian man furiously swearing away as he looked at all the blood still on deck from the day before. Beside him was the man that called himself Adrian, but he now knew was actually named Antonio. The smaller Italian whipped his head towards Antonio and angrily spat out “Don’t just stand there like an idiot! Make yourself fucking useful and mop up!” in Spanish, to which Antonio patted him on the back and took the mop the Italian was handing him.

No, that didn’t seem right. If the Spaniard was Antonio and the next captain in line, then why would the Italian show so much disrespect? Surely, if what the disfigured old man said was true, Antonio would be furious about being treated this way.

“How many Italians are on board your ship?” asked Sadık.

“Just the one,” replied Armado. “He’s got quite the character. Very hot-headed. But Antonio likes him, so the rest of us tolerate him at worst.”

A smile tugged at Sadık’s lips. This may be the first of many opportunities for him to start a mutiny on this ship to help his escape. Armado wasn’t going to like the information he had at his disposal.

“Did you know that it was an Italian that sent us a warning message about your arrival?” he asked.

Armado smiled. This was exactly the sort of information he was looking for. He was aware Lovino sent a letter home his first night on board, but he didn’t think he would be stupid enough to message the authorities. No, Armado wasn’t falling for whatever ruse the Turk thought he was using.

“Tell me more.”

“What is there to tell? We received a message from a man in Italy saying that he received a letter from his grandson about joining pirates and heading to Greece. The message was actually sent to a contact of theirs who was supposed to collect the wayward boy before he could do any real damage to himself, but we intercepted the message. You should be grateful we did.”

“Oh?”

“Of course. I’m sure you don’t want a rat on board your ship. Just because this particular rat is man-sized, doesn’t make it a man.”

Satisfied, Armado smiled coyly at Sadık and tossed the tray with whatever meat was left at his feet.

“You have 15 minutes,” said Armado as he stood up and untied the ropes that bound Sadık’s wrists, “to stretch your legs and eat before I tie you up again.”

It didn’t break Armado’s heart to give him a false sense of security, either. He quite liked Lovino.

*

The sun was just starting to set by the time the main deck was completely scrubbed clean of blood. Lovino was grateful that most of the riggers helped with the task, while the rest continued to rig the ship towards Spain, and away from Greece. Most of the gunners had spent the last night and day trying to seal up the hole in the ship so she wouldn’t sink. It was a good thing the cannonball only managed to graze the back corner of the ship and far enough above the waterline that water wasn’t leaking in, so long as the waves remained relatively low. Otherwise, they would have all drowned. But the minimal repairs they could manage won’t be enough if a storm brews, tossing waves up and flooding the deck.

Armado gathered everyone on deck for another vote; he stood at the helm, looking down at the crew. The sky was still clear and a light breeze rocked the ship and made her creak. The sound of it made some of the men nervous.

“We have a problem,” he began. “As you all know, those damn Turks blew out half my cabin. Some of you were able to cover up the hole, and you all did a great job! Unfortunately, it might not be good enough to get us back to our base in Spain…”

Lovino cast a glance towards the Turk. A part of him hated Sadık for complicating their lives, but another part of him pitied him when he remembered what Antonio said to him when they first met.

_‘They’ll assume I’m capturing you to sell as a slave, but don’t worry… You’re too pretty for that.’_

From the corner of his eye, Antonio noticed Lovino rubbing the cross that he always wore around his neck — a habit he only did when he was thinking too much. Sure enough, he was staring blankly in the general direction of the prisoner. Now was not the time to space out. He nudged him sharply in the ribs.

“Ow!” The cross was dropped, and hung again around his neck.

“Shh!”

“I thought you were done giving me bruises!” complained Lovino in a hushed voice.

“Pay attention,” was the whispered reply.

“… only predict the weather a few days ahead at a time,” droned Alistair. “At the moment, we’d be okay for the next few days, at least, without being hit with a storm.”

“All those in favour of going straight home, say ‘aye’!” boomed Armado.

There was a chorus of ‘ayes’. A few men, like Lovino, did not raise their voices. The majority voted in favour.

They were going home.

With their next course of action decided, men took their positions to sail through the night in order to take advantage of the generous amount of wind. The rest went below deck with their recently lit lanterns and candles in order to sleep. Lovino was about to follow them when Armado called his name and asked him to follow. His heart leapt in his throat.

This must be to talk about the failed raid and how he didn’t have his initiation yet. Does this mean that Armado came to a decision regardless? Is it going to matter that he was one of the gunners during the attack?

Preoccupied with these thoughts, Lovino obeyed. He didn’t even notice that Antonio was following right behind him. He might have felt better if he had.

By the time he made it to Armado’s cabin, he was so tense that he felt his spine could snap in half in a light breeze. It didn’t help that the cabin was so drafty from the hole that was boarded up.

Armado sat down and greeted Lovino with one of his genuine smiles, but it only relaxed him a little.

“Have you made up your mind yet?” he asked. For a moment, Lovino didn’t know what he was talking about and just looked at him confused. “About joining our crew officially,” he supplied.

“Oh! Uh… Yeah. I think I like it here. I’ll stay.”

Lovino couldn’t see Antonio beaming behind him and Armado gave him another genuine smile for it. These smiles are usually rare, and yet somehow, Lovino managed to see it twice within five minutes. Poor Lovino was oblivious to what was happening around him.

“So you understand that you’ll be held to the same standards as everyone else?”

“Of course.”

Armado’s eyes hardened and his voice became serious. “I’m glad to hear that. We have a problem, Lovino, and it’s related to the bigger problem behind me.”

Lovino became tense all over again, and concerned Antonio came to sit by his side, as a sort of comfort.

“What, did I do something wrong? If my attitude is the problem, then I’m sorry, but I’m not likely to change it just to suit some assholes that can’t take a verbal fucking beating! I—”

Armado raised his hand to shut him up. “No. This isn’t about your attitude, although that is another problem for another day.” Lovino felt his cheeks begin to tint in embarrassment. “The letter you sent to your brother the night we left Italy. You didn’t by any chance mention where you were going did you?”

Lovino didn’t entirely know what to say to that. How was he expected to remember something like that? If he did, it was in passing, and not meant to be considered important information.

“It— It might have slipped up… Why?”

“Our new pet out there told me that the tip they received about our arrival was thanks to a message they received from some Italian who wanted his grandson back home after he ran away with pirates.”

Whereas his face began to tint before, now it felt like it was on fire. If that were true and his grandfather was the one that tipped the Turks about them coming, then the failed raid was his fault, and not some freak coincidence.

It was his fault almost 40 men died.

It was his fault they were hit by a cannonball.

It was his fault they might all drown at sea because of the damage caused by the cannonball.

“I never thought it needed to be told before that our raid destinations should be secret. Usually, the punishment for a slip up like this—something that cost _the lives of our men_ —would mean flogg—”

“Wait, hold on! Maybe we can think of a different punishment for him.”

Armado squinted at the interruption from Antonio. “Why? He agreed to be held to the same standards as everyone else.”

“Yes, but look at him. He’s so delicate that he probably never got a simple slap on the wrist in his life.”

“Excuse me?! What the hell are you suggesting!?”

“Shh!”

Having been shushed by Antonio for the second time that day, Lovino gave up on talking altogether. _Fine! Argue all you fucking want, pal! It’s no skin off_ my _back!_ Especially since Lovino was not arguing with Armado like Antonio was. He was prepared to be treated the same as the others. It was the price he should pay for his mistake.

Growing impatient, Armado motioned for Antonio to continue. “And what might _you_ suggest?”

“Just isolate him down at the supply deck until we arrive in Spain. It’s freezing cold and uncomfortable. Plus, we can put him on cleaning duty the rest of the trip, without complaining, since we know he hates cleaning, and loves complaining.”

“You’re a shithole.”

“Come on, Lovi. I’m trying to help you here.”

“I didn’t ask for your help, stupid!”

“Enough.” Both were silenced by the command. “You’re responsible for him,” said Armado, looking condescendingly at Antonio. “So if he goes down to the supply deck for the rest of his fucking trip, then so are you. _You_ are going to make sure he doesn’t touch the fucking supplies, and _you_ are going to make sure he stays in line. One foot out of line for _either_ of you, and you _both_ get a flogging. Understood?”

“Aye,” was Antonio’s immediate answer. Lovino could only nod. He was _sort of_ grateful that Antonio stuck his neck out like that for him.

“Good. Now get out,” shooed Armado.

The two men obeyed without hesitation. Lovino now felt like he could breathe again. The worst was over now. Right?

“I’ll just grab a blanket. You grab the lantern.”

“Okay,” was Lovino’s half-hearted response. _Wait…_ a _blanket? Didn’t he say it was going to be cold? Why only get one blanket?_

He started absently rubbing the cross on his necklace again; a habit he picked up soon after his mother died.

Lovino had a lot to think about.


	10. Fathers and Sons

The supply deck: the deepest part of the ship. Since it’s also the part of the ship that’s always below the waterline, it was also the coolest—and darkest.

Lovino simply followed Antonio down the ladder into the darkness. Down here is where they kept their tools, dried foods, barrels of drinking water, and whatever other treasures or junk they manage to steal off their victims.

“Shine that light over here,” said Antonio.

He started clearing some barrels and crates around a post. Once he’d cleared enough space for two people among the various boxes and crates, he took the lantern from Lovino and hung it on the nearby post.

“Isn’t your trunk still upstairs?” asked Lovino.

“Yep!” Antonio handed the blanket to Lovino. “But it’s not like I’ll be able to get it down tonight in the dark. It can wait until tomorrow morning.”

“You only brought one blanket.”

“Oh yeah! How silly of me. I guess we’ll have to share.”

The smile Antonio provided told Lovino it was intentional, but he couldn’t tell why. Meanwhile, Antonio was rummaging through some of the boxes and trunks that were laid out everywhere, pulling linens, clothes and coats out.

“What is all this junk, anyway?” said Lovino as he gestured to the boxes and crates.

“Oh, just various things we collected over the years. Sometimes we’re rushed in our raids so we’ll target specific houses and take whatever we can get our hands on. That included clothes and linens that we don’t actually need.” Antonio was setting the cloths down in the space he made. Lovino clued in that he was making a make-shift bed, so they wouldn’t have to sleep on the floorboards.

And suddenly, that space for two looked a little too small.

“Uh, what are you doing?”

“I’m making a bed. Did you expect me to let you sleep on the floor?”

“Would you stop me from sleeping on the floor?”

“You won’t be very comfortable.”

“I thought that was the point.”

Antonio sighed. “Well, suit yourself, my friend.” He paused in order to look up at Lovino still standing behind him, still smiling in his coy manner. “Remember there will always be room beside me if you can’t sleep.”

Lovino felt his cheeks burn and turned around to lean against a barrel opposite Antonio. He continued to watch him make his bed and the bastard started humming as he did. Actually, he didn’t mind the humming. Grandpa used to hum like that all the time, when he was working around the house.

He clutched his cross again.

Antonio was about done making a nest of linens and started to undress as Lovino watched. He watched as he lifted his shirt over his head, revealing lean muscle underneath honey-brown skin. His gaze moved up to the tousled brown hair, his moss-green eyes, and back down to his toned torso, and he felt heat spread through his lower abdomen and up to his cheeks.

Lovino looked away. Why was this man so damn _attractive_? Lovino was just a good catholic boy. The last thing he needed was _Antonio_ to complicate things for him.

_I could really go for some wine right now…_ “Do any of these barrels have wine in them?”

Antonio looked up and seemed to be thinking. “Uh, yes! There should be one somewhere.” He started walking around the deck, inspecting the barrels in what little light the lantern provided. “I’m sure no one will mind us sneaking a little bit. Oh, here’s one! Go into that crate over there. I found some crystal-ware in there earlier.”

Lovino did as he was told and walked over to where Antonio was lifting a small barrel and laying it on top of another, larger barrel, so that the spout at the bottom could be easily accessed. The golden light from the lantern hit his skin just right to accentuate the the curves of his body…

Lovino shook his head to rid himself of these thoughts and to cool his burning skin. He wipes the glasses with his shirt to remove the dust that had collected on them, and passed one at a time to Antonio as he filled them. He took a long drag from the glass that was handed to him, emptied it with one gulp. He needed more. Antonio didn’t wait to be asked to refill it, and this time, he filled it completely.

Why did Antonio have this effect on him? He’d only known the man for a week, but he somehow felt drawn to him from the beginning. He was supposed to make an honest living for himself, find a nice girl, get married, and fix up the farm house for them to live in. He was supposed to be a farmer. Instead, he ran away with this damned good-looking pirate and now he… well, he didn’t _want_ to know what he was thinking. It was a good thing Antonio intruded on his thoughts just then.

“I’m glad you decided to stay with us,” he said.

Lovino felt oddly flattered. He was glad his presence made Antonio happy. It was an odd feeling he had in his chest and he couldn’t figure out what it was. It felt like his heart was beating too fast and too hard, like it was fluttering.

_Is this what it means to have butterflies in your stomach?_ he wondered.

He took another long sip from his glass.

“I’m glad I met you,” was all Lovino could manage.

But now he was uncomfortable. Even Antonio’s brightest smile couldn’t erase the caving he felt in his stomach.

With a smile tugging at his lips, Antonio said, “don’t get too drunk this time.”

Lovino smiled back and said, “I won’t.”

Antonio walked back to his bed with his glass. Setting the glass on a nearby box, he sat himself down, and laying back, he put his hands behind his head. He left just enough room for Lovino to lay next to him. Lovino took his place by his side. They were just friends. That meant that sharing a bed wasn’t supposed to be a big deal. _Why am I making such a big deal out of this?_

“So,” began Antonio, picking up his glass again, “tell me about your childhood.”

Lovino snickered and sipped his wine. “What is there to say? I had a sheltered upbringing on my parents farm, and when my parents died, I had a sheltered upbringing in my Grandpa’s bookstore.”

Antonio observed him carefully. “I don’t know, but sometimes when I watch you… It seems to be more complicated than that.”

Lovino looked over at Antonio, still shirtless, and with his pants hugging his hips just right. _No, stop that_!

“I, uh…”

Lovino has never told anyone what really happened to his parents. He never needed to. Everyone in town already knew what happened, like some fucked up sixth sense. It was one of the reasons he wanted to escape so badly. But looking at Antonio—ever so sincere, Antonio—he told him what he’d never told anyone before. He told him how his father disappeared at sea, and his mother couldn’t live with the grief of it. He told him how his poor younger brother was the first to find her hanging body, and how he had to bury her alone at night, how scared he was, and how desperate he was for the night to end. He told him how understanding and forgiving his Grandpa was and how he couldn’t understand how the old man could be stupid enough to spoil their raid the way he did.

But at the same time, he knew his Grandpa loved him and his brother more than anything in the world and that he promised to protect them. Lovino knew that his grandfather was only trying to protect him as he promised and he couldn’t bring himself to hate him for it. He was glad when he saw the understanding in Antonio’s eyes.

And then Antonio told his story.

“I grew up in an orphanage until I was about seven.”

“How did you end up there?”

“How should I know? I’ve been there as long as I can remember. The mistress of the household used to beat me all the time. One day I decided I just had enough and snuck out at night. I ran away. It was on that night I met Armado.” At this point, Antonio’s eyes seemed to darken. Lovino was concerned by the look in his eyes, but it seemed to go away almost as quickly as it came. “He let me join his crew. I’ve been a pirate ever since.”

“Well, you’re story certainly isn’t as dramatic as mine.”

Antonio laughed that hearty laugh of his. “No, it isn’t. So you really mean to tell me that someone as handsome as you doesn’t have any girls waiting for him at home?”

“Well, there were a few barmaids here and there that got a little too enthusiastic when they had a little too much wine, but no… Nothing permanent. You?”

“Nah. I never stay on land long enough to get committed to them.”

Lovino felt happy by this confession. Having finished his wine long ago, he was starting to drift to sleep.

“Goodnight, then,” he said to Antonio.

“Goodnight!” beamed Antonio.

Antonio got up to extinguish the dwindling candle in the lantern, before they could both sleep for the night, freezing, and just a little bit more satisfied.

*

The next morning, Lovino was desperate to bathe. Unfortunately, he couldn’t find a comb among the various crates and boxes, so he had to finger-comb his hair, which was pretty useless. Within an hour, his hair was a fluffy, curly mess of hair in a perfect imitation of his grandfather’s naturally unruly hair.

Lovino was getting his bucket of soapy water ready to he could scrub the decks yet again.

“Lovi, why are you looking so grumpy? Usually people are happy to get a bath,” said Antonio sneaking up behind him.

“You’d think with all those boxes of crates down there, there’d be a goddamn fucking comb in one of them!”

Antonio started to pet Lovino’s head. “Oh! But I think the curly hair suits you! You look so handsome—”

“Would you?!” said Lovino as he bat his hand away, but Antonio was persistent. He pet Lovino’s hair down and stroked his curls down, especially that obnoxious curl that never could be tamed down. A moan escaped from Lovino’s lips, he blushed, and turned away.

“Wait, come back here! What did I do wrong?” shouted Antonio.

“You know what you did wrong, you dirty whore.”

“You say that like you didn’t enjoy last night, Lovi.”

“Kiss my ass!”

“Gladly,” said Antonio, with a wink and a curl to his lips. This caused Lovino’s face to blush a deep red before he fled below deck, under the claim of getting more soap.

Sadık, still tied to the main mast, overheard the entire conversation, and could hardly believe his ears. His attempt to cause a mutiny through the Italian’s betrayal had failed. But this was so much better. He had reason to believe that Antonio the Spaniard, the favourite among the crew, was in fact a homosexual, something most catholics could never forgive. He only needed to wait for the prime opportunity to use this information.

Lovino soon came back up and was relieved to find Antonio was busy with the riggers, and wouldn’t embarrass him anymore. His gaze lingered on the Turk, still bound and useless. Lovino didn’t quite hate him anymore, but he still pitied him for being tied to the mast all day and all night. He wondered if anyone bothered to feed him, since he never saw him roaming around, except for his first day on deck. The Turk locked eyes with Lovino and the look he gave him made him uncomfortable.

Finding Armado at the helm as was his usual, Lovino went up to him to ask a question.

“Armado?”

“Hm?”

Lovino considered his next words carefully. “Why is the Turk still alive? I mean… No one seemed to care about keeping the others alive. Why is this one important?”

“He isn’t,” sighed Armado. “That one’s just lucky to be alive.”

“But why? Why are we keeping him? He’s just another mouth to feed, and he’s likely to be a hazard if he breaks loose.”

“Because he’s worth money, and he’s worth more if he’s healthy.” Armado must have mistaken Lovino’s look of horror for curiosity and continued to explain. “We can bring him with us to the Caribbean. We can sell him to the slave masters for a good price there.”

Lovino swallowed and nodded, going back to cleaning the deck. So Antonio wasn’t joking that first night he met him. What if they decided they didn’t want him on the crew? Would he have ended up where the Turk was now? Was he just lucky to have been introduced by Antonio, the crowd favourite?

But Sadık had been paying attention. Being held captive on board this ship was enough of a nightmare, now they wanted to sell him into slavery. He wasn’t going to let them. He swore to himself once again that he’d find a way off this boat.

*

The rest of the morning went rather smoothly. Alistair said they were making great progress and could arrive in Spain in just over a week. Around the noon hour, some of the crew were sitting on deck, munching whatever food they could stomach and trying to enjoy the warm sun and cooling wind despite their shitty circumstances. Lovino was sitting beside Antonio and Enzo, and felt a pang when he saw Enzo getting quite cozy with Antonio. He was going to have to think his stupid emotions through and figure out what was wrong with him.

Just as he did the day before, Armado gathered a plate of meats and brought them for Sadık. Armado handed the plate to Antonio. “Feed him,” he said, and walked back to the helm. Many were watching. This was the sole form of entertainment they had at the moment.

Antonio obeyed. He moved his chair in front of Sadık and was about to put a decent-sized chunk of meat in his mouth, when Sadık spat and said something under his breath. Some men close by went quiet.

Armado wasn’t entirely phased. He had a feeling Sadık was trying some sort of clever scheme to escape. He just didn’t know what form his scheme might take. “What did you say?”

“I said I wasn’t going to be fed by some cocksucker,” repeated Sadık with malice in his eyes and his gaze cast to Lovino, who squirmed under the heavy gaze.

Antonio froze. The deck was silent. Any moment now, and the crew would riot, and Sadık could make his escape.

Armado strode towards the pair, his jaw was set in fury and determination. Once he was within arms reach, he slugged Sadık, causing his head to bang against the post. Armado grabbed him by his hair and forced him to look him in the eye.

“And you’re just the ugliest mother fucker I’ve ever seen in my life,” spat Sadık. Things weren’t going as planned. If he couldn’t cause a mutiny, then he could at least spark enough rage in Armado to make him kill him and throw him overboard to join his brothers-in-arms.

Armado just chuckled mockingly and pulled Sadık’s head into an awkward angle.

“I see you’ve noticed my scar,” he said, a smile playing on his lips. “Do you want to know how I got it?” Sadık could only manage a moan of pain, but it didn’t stop Armado from telling his story. “I was born in Venezuela before my father and I  were taken and sold into slavery. The man that owned us, he was cruel. My father spoke up against him, he put his foot down. You know what our master did to punish my father? He had some of his other slaves hold my father down as he held my face in his hand and carved my face out with a butcher knife. I was 5.” Armado let go of Sadık’s hair, who now started breathing in deep gasps as blood ran down from his nose, dripping onto his shirt. “That night, my father snuck into the master’s house and murdered him. Tore his guts out with his bare hands and made me watch. We took the first boat out of town. That boat happened to belong to pirates.”

Armado took a few steps back. He turned to face Antonio, still standing firm and looking down at Sadık, judging him. He put his arm around Antonio, gave a hearty squeeze, and said, “You’d be amazed how far fathers will go for their sons. The next time you say shit about mine, I’ll carve your face out, just like mine. We’ll find out how far _your_ father would go for you.”

Armado walked back to the helm where he could stare down at Sadık. With the plate of food forgotten at the Turk’s feet, just out of reach, Antonio went back to sit with Enzo and Lovino. No one approached him. Sadık quickly realized that once again, his plan had failed. He tentatively looked about the deck, and saw the looks the crew members were giving him, like he’d said something stupidly obvious.

He didn’t expect the entire crew to accept Antonio’s personal preference.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would like to say, loudly and clearly, that Turkey is not homophobic. He simply expects others to be. That is all.


	11. Blessings

Lovino realized why Antonio was treating him the way he did: he was flirting. Now that he realized it, he found it hard to look him in the eye without turning some shade of red, so he generally avoided him. He didn’t particularly like avoiding him, since there seemed to be so much to say between them, but in broad daylight and in front of everyone just wasn’t the time or place. He could only imagine what Antonio was thinking or feeling right now and he wanted to do something about it. He just hadn’t figured out what that something was yet, but it occupied his thoughts the rest of the day.

The rest of the day as it turned out passed tensely. Antonio was angry about what happened with Sadık, and the crew wanted to give him space. Unfortunately, the space they were giving him was mistaken for avoidance and it only worsened his mood.

What puzzled everyone is that Antonio doesn’t typically _care_ what people thought of his sexuality. He downright flaunted it, no matter who was in his company. Antonio couldn’t outright say that Lovino was the reason why he was so upset. How was he supposed to explain the fear he felt in losing him?

At some point, the tension became unbearable and Enzo lured Antonio down below deck. Lovino didn’t see him again until much later in the evening.

*

Lovino was lying on his back in their little nest, with his arm acting as a cushion for his head. He left the candle in the lantern lit so that Antonio could find his way in the dark, when he decided to come down.

_If_ he decided to come down.

“He’s probably fine,” Lovino told himself. “He’s probably just blowing off some steam.”

Lovino didn’t actually know what he was doing because he’d never actually seen Antonio get angry. It occurred to him that it might not even be what Sadık said that upset him. Not with that haunted look that sometimes crossed his face. Lovino could tell from the crew’s general atmosphere that this was unusual behaviour for Antonio, but how many of them saw what he saw? He didn’t want to let himself be troubled by it.

But he couldn’t help it. Seeing Antonio angry sent shivers down his spine. It wasn’t right for the usually cheerful and constantly smiling Antonio to be furious as he was, and especially not for something he never bothered to hide in the first place.

The sooner Antonio came down to sleep, the sooner they could talk out whatever had upset him. It also meant he could sort out his jumbled thoughts sooner.

The sooner the better.

Rolling onto his side, Lovino did his best to ignore the cold, the creaks, and the creepy shadows that haunted his surroundings in order to sleep, wishing Antonio would come.

 

* * *

“Come on, Toño! I’m tired,” said Enzo.

“I’m not,” was Antonio’s quick reply, still sparring with Enzo, who now refused to cooperate.

He slashed the wooden sword at Enzo, which he made no attempt to block, letting the shaft hit him across his chest. He groaned in pain, and Antonio, now realizing he no longer had a sparring partner, threw the sword across the gallery, his features twisted in frustration.

“I don’t think that was very necessary,” said Enzo, exasperated that he made no progress to better Antonio’s mood.

Antonio just sat on the floor and leaned forward, laying his head in his hands and running them through his hair in order to scratch the back of his head. “I’m sorry, Enzo.”

Enzo sighed and sat next to Antonio. “Look, I get that you’re upset, but would you please get over it?”

“Yeah.”

“Good. It’s late, and we should be going to bed.”

“Not yet.”

“Oh, come on!”

“So this is where you’ve been hiding,” said Alistair, poking his head up from the deck below.

“Yeah! What a merry band of _happy_ pirates we make,” said Enzo, barely holding back his sarcasm. “How’s the weather up there?”

“Getting cloudy, but hopefully nothing serious. We’ll be fine for a few more days,” said Alistair. He’d been abnormally sober since the attack. “You know, mate, you can’t avoid him forever,” he said to Antonio.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ _Christ!_ ” shouted Enzo, leaning back and laying down, trying to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. He was getting pretty annoyed with Antonio acting like an idiot. He wasn’t looking forward to going through the process again with Alistair.

“The whole crew knows,” was Alistair’s gentler response. “And Lovino isn’t stupid, so he probably already knows too.”

“I don’t think we’re talking about the same thing here.”

“I’m 67% sure that we are.”

“And where did you get this statistic?”

“Shut up!” moaned Enzo from where he lay on the floor. “Shut up. Shut up. _Shut up_.” For a moment, all three were silent. “Go down and talk to him.”

“No.”

“What are you afraid of?” asked Alistair. “If it’s rejection, then I’ll have to admit, I didn’t know you were so childish.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“Then explain.” Enzo was increasingly losing his patience with the conversation.

“Well he… he likes girls…”

“So do you,” came Alistair’s logical reply.

Enzo simply laughed as exhaustion took its toll. “So let me get this straight! You’re afraid he’s going to try to kill you in your sleep because you like to fuck men.”

“What?! No! Lovi wouldn’t do that. Or… I like to think he wouldn’t.”

Enzo sat back up and put his hands on either side of Antonio’s head, forcing him to look him in the eye.

“Go down there. Talk to him. Now.”

“But—”

“Now,” he repeated. “Trust me. And if you make me say it again, I swear to god I will make you pay for beating me up with a wooden sword.”

“If he does try to kill you, just scream, and we’ll come down and save you, princess,” added Alistair with a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’re both assholes.”

“Because we love you,” said Enzo. “Now go.”

He was just relieved to see the conversation end.

 

* * *

“Argh!”

Lovino was woken up by the yell and the sound of a box scraping against the floor. In the dim light of the candle still burning, he could just make out Antonio making his way towards the light. It looks like he finally decided to come down. He was still cursing from having stubbed his toe. He sat up in the nest.

“Where have you been?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He wasn’t able to sleep thanks to the worry he felt for Antonio.

“Blowing off steam.”

Lovino thought about his answer and considered what to say next. He didn’t exactly want to set him off again.

“Why?”

“Drop it.” But he stopped at the edge of the nest and hesitated. “I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to sleep near me,” he said, clenching his fists at his sides.

Lovino wanted to slam his face into a brick wall due to the sheer stupidity of what he was hearing. Of all the things for Antonio to be upset about, rejection wasn’t one he expected.

“Do you really think so little of me? Are you seriously letting that brainless monkeyfuck get to you like that? I’m frankly offended that you assume what happened today would change anything.” Truth is, it changed many things.

“Frankly, you’re easily offended anyway.”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t act like my fears are unfounded. I see you clutching that cross around your neck when you think no one is looking. You’re a good Christian, right? How does the saying go again? ‘If a man lies with a male as those who lie with a woman, both of them have committed an abomination and they shall surely be put to death’!”

“Are you seriously angry at me for being _Christian_?” Lovino was standing now. He felt like he was drowning, and yet he didn’t take the plunge; the plunge he meant to take once Antonio came down, but not like this. Not yet. Too soon. He wasn’t ready yet.

“No, I’m not!”

“It sounds like you are.”

“I just need you to understand!”

“Understand what? That we’re both going to Hell anyway?”

“Yes! Wait, what?”

Lovino could hardly believe what he was doing anymore. He knew something changed, and he couldn’t figure it out alone. He took Antonio’s head into his hands and forced him to lean forward. Before he could protest, he kissed him. Suddenly, softly, and quickly; but it was just long enough for both of them to begin to blush. He felt out of breath, but he kept that information to himself, safely stashed away and out of sight from Antonio.

“Feel better now?” said Lovino.

“Uh—”

“Good. Now let me sleep,” he said, dragging the Spaniard down with him.

Antonio couldn’t hold back his smile of relief.

Lovino tried his hardest to hide his own. It was just as he expected: he’d fallen for the stupid bastard, but he couldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d won him over.

“Come here,” he said, pulling Antonio over so he could lay his head on his chest. “Stop thinking stupid things like that.”

“Lovi—”

“Just shut up.”

Not yet. Too soon.

He wasn’t ready for this.

*

The next morning, Lovino woke up feeling like a furnace had been sewn to his back. Although dark, he had a feeling Antonio was the one radiating so much heat. No wonder he slept shirtless. But then Lovino felt heat rise to his cheeks when he realized that if he could feel all this heat coming from Antonio’s chest, then the hard object that had woken him up and that was currently pressing against his ass was Antonio’s morning wood.

His new “friend” was indeed well-endowed in more ways than one.

It wasn’t such a bad way to wake up in the morning.

The only problem is that it was pitch black below deck and barely any light filtered through from above. They couldn’t know if it was morning yet unless they actually went up as far as the gallery to see if it was morning yet. (And no, ‘morning wood’ is as much an indication of ‘morning’ as it was of ‘wood’.)

Lovino started to feel like he was suffocating from the heat radiating off Antonio’s body, so he started squirming in an effort to nudge him awake. He was entirely aware that it ultimately meant his ass was rubbing against Antonio’s crotch. He was concentrating on trying to suppress his oncoming erection, because _this was not the time_. This, combined with how used to the creaking of wood he had gotten, meant he didn’t realize someone was walking towards them until he finally opened his eyes and noticed there was light coming from behind them.

“Well, it looks to me as though they finally made up. What do you think, Enzo?”

“They’re as cute together as I imagined, Ally.”

Mortified, Lovino slammed his elbow into Antonio’s stomach, prompting a groan from him as he was forced awake. Antonio stretched as he sat up. A meek “oh” slipped from his mouth when he saw Enzo and Alistair observing them, and Lovino with his head buried beneath the covers and probably pretending to sleep.

“You two overslept. Captain wants you on deck,” said Enzo.

“And Armado sent both of you just for that?” asked Antonio.

“Technically, he only sent Enzo. I just wanted to see the looks on your faces. Lovino doesn’t disappoint.”

Antonio nudged Lovino, but he refused to poke his head out, still insisting he was asleep.

“Give me a few minutes,” said Antonio. “I’ll join you guys up there soon.”

He waited until they were both above deck and the light from their lantern was gone. Then, Antonio leaned over Lovino’s body and just where he imagined his ear would be, he whispered “I was already awake, you know” in a sultry tone.

Lovino sat up as well. “Don’t expect the royal treatment every morning.” Antonio interrupted him by tracing along Lovino’s jaw gently with his fingers, and finding his mouth, he kissed him just a little longer than the night before.

He pulled away. “We’ll see about that,” he said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, kissing is cool and all, but what if—and bear with me here—what if they made out? 8D


	12. Better Together

By morning, everyone was back to behaving normally. It wasn’t so much like nothing ever happened, but more like it could have been so much worse.

The last few days have gone smoothly. As Alistair predicted, it got very cloudy, but thankfully, the only rain they got was a few drizzles before the clouds started to clear again.  The winds still blew strong and the ship still made impressive progress on its way back to Spain.

In all that time, Lovino managed to clean every deck except for the supply deck. He meant to do that today, but Armado insisted the main deck needed work again, so once again, in the gusting winds, he did his best to do his job without getting in anyone’s way.

Armado came to find him rather early in the morning and laid a heavy hand on Lovino’s shoulder. “We should be arriving in Spain in about a week,” he said. “Once we land, you should take the opportunity to send news to your family. Let your grandfather know that you’re safe, despite his mistake.” Then he patted Lovino on the back as Lovino swallowed his pride, and nodded. “We’ll send the letter to Italy when we land in Spain,” said Armado as he made his way to the helm where Alistair waited for him.

Lovino felt an air of warning about the way Armado said it, though. It was clear he didn’t want their new destination to become known this time. He certainly wasn’t going to make the same mistake again.

Lovino couldn’t help but cast his gaze again to the Turk still tied to the mast. He was in everyone’s way, but no one dared untie him or tie him elsewhere, not after the scene with Antonio. Lovino suspected he hadn’t eaten or drunk anything since, because he was starting to look worn and his skin looked waxy. Despite looking like he was on the verge of death, he also had an unnerving look to his eyes. His body was dying, but his mind was still trying to find a way out, somehow. Lovino tried to push him out of his mind in order to actually do his job.

A few hours went by, and everyone was more or less minding their own business as they went through the motions of rigging the sails and steering the ship. Occasionally, someone would notice Sadık’s eyes lingered too long on Armado. They all suspected he was going to try something, but all they could do was wait. Eventually, the lingering turned into observing, and observing became staring. Finally, when Armado switched places with Alistair at the wheel is when Sadık made his move.

“I would like to have a word with you, _old man_ ,” shouted Sadık. His voice croaked from disuse.

Every crew member was listening. They’d all been waiting for him to pipe up eventually and try a different trick. They kept on doing their jobs, since they still had a ways to go to safety, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be prepared for whatever trick the Turk had prepared.

Armado walked over to where Sadık was now struggling to stand. He hadn’t used his legs in days and he was a little wobbly as he stood.

“What do you want, _old man_?” asked Armado.

“I want to challenge you to a sword fight.”

Armado laughed, a deep bellowing laugh, and some other nearby crew members snickered at him. He was in a pathetic state as it was. How could he hope to win a fight?

“I assume this sword fight will have stakes? What do you want if you win? Freedom?”

“From this day onward.”

“And what if you lose? You die? I’m not going to kill you. It would defeat the purpose of keeping you alive this entire trip!”

“No, you’re right. It would be a waste.” Sadık paused, seemingly to gather his strength. He set his shoulders. “I’ll submit myself to you as your slave.”

Having said that, Sadık set his jaw. It was a humiliating situation to say the least, but if he was destined to live the rest of his miserable life a slave, he’d rather do it in Armado’s custody, whom he long ago realized was at least as honest a man as any pirate can be. Who knew who he would end up with otherwise. If Sadık could choose between the risk of having a stranger that would abuse him or Armado, he’d choose Armado any day.

“No.” Armado didn’t hesitate to answer; he didn’t need to think about it. The last thing he wanted was a slave and the last thing he needed was a free-roaming slave with a grudge. He suspected that Sadık wanted to become his slave so he can murder them in their sleep and then die properly.

Sadık seemed to notice Armado’s thought process and felt like he would break down with despair.  He couldn’t though—not yet. This was his last strategy and he wasn’t about to give up on it so easily. Trying to get them to turn on each other didn’t work; they were too tight-knit a crew. Getting them to outright kill him also didn’t work. All he could do now is become one of them somehow, but there was no way they’d let him join the crew, so he has to resort to the next best thing, but it seemed that they won’t allow even that. He was going to figure out a way to escape anyway, once they reached land.

Sadık watched as Armado went back down below deck and he sank back down in a sitting position, causing the scabs on his wrists to break and fresh streams of blood to run down his arms. He looked around and noticed how the crew avoided him.

If they wanted him alive, they would have to feed him soon… Would they let him starve to death in order to avoid keeping him as a slave?

“ARMADOOO!” shouted Sadık.

He would keep on shouting until someone decided to do something about it. He wasn’t giving up.

“ARMADOOO!”

The crew continued to ignore him.

Around mid-afternoon, Sadık’s voice was growing hoarse and he was starting to sound like a dying animal, but he persevered. Lovino couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m ready to strangle him,” he hissed to no one in particular, but Antonio was close enough to hear him.

“Get Armado,” said Antonio to the nearest crew member.

It took several minutes and about five more bouts of screaming for Armado to come up. When he came into sight, Sadık stopped shouting his name in favour of standing again. Armado walked up to Sadık and with a look of complete annoyance, threw his arms wide open, and turned around in a circle in front of Sadık, as though mocking him.

“Satisfied?” asked Armado.

Sadık simply licked his lips to moisten them. He was so thirsty.

“You’re not getting what you want,” added Armado.

“Are you afraid of losing against a starving man?” said Sadık hoarsely.

Armado’s eyes squinted. He looked at Sadık with contempt. “Do you think you can taunt me?  You’re not getting your freedom, slave!”

“If I don’t get my sword fight, I’ll let myself starve to death,” continued Sadık. “I’m sure you’ll have a hard time finding someone willing to buy a corpse off of you.”

Armado bristled at this threat, and the easy gaze the Turk gave him made his skin crawl. He was too confident in his future enslavement for Armado to rest easy on the subject. He turned his attention to the crew.

“So what do any of you think?”

They hesitated. They weren’t afraid of Armado losing; they just didn’t want to give up on their only bounty. Alistair had an idea and brought it to Armado’s attention in whispers. The rest could see Armado’s brow shoot up and a smile quirk—he seemed to like the idea.

“Ally thinks I should engage in this fight with the Turk. Is anyone against?”

Most of the crew remained silent again. Some of them hesitated and wanted to speak up against it, but they decided to trust Alistair’s idea, whatever it may be. They suspected he had a good reason to be secretive and that they would each find out what it was about eventually anyway.

Lovino felt miserably out of the loop and made a mental note to ask Antonio about it later. One day, he’ll get the hang of the silent communication they seem to have, but today just wasn’t that day.

This would be his first time seeing a sword fight. He knew that the practice round he had with Antonio would be a very pale comparison.

Someone untied Sadık as Armado removed his coat and the various weapons he usually kept concealed under it, except for his cutlass. Someone supplied Sadık with his own. His arms and face were still crusted with blood. If Sadık were able to stand steadily instead of wobbling on his feet, he would’ve looked menacing, covered in blood and expertly wielding his sword. He couldn’t possibly think he could win in his weakened state. Armado and Sadık, the captain and the slave-to-be, eyed each other briefly.

The fight passed like a blur. Within moments, Armado loomed over Sadık as he lay on his back with Armado’s sword at his throat, new blood trickling down his brow.

“Clean yourself up and get me my lunch,” said Armado.

Sadık could only nod. If he had any energy left to spare, he might have smiled at finally getting somewhere in this pathetic state. Armado had just started to turn around when he spun back.

“I’m just going to establish some ground rules. First, you will not only submit to me, but my entire crew as well.” Armado began walking towards the trapdoor leading back down. “Second, you will be supervised at all times. Third, you will _never_ call me Master.”

Armado returned below deck and he wasn’t seen again until it was time to replace Alistair at the helm. It made Lovino thankful all over again that he boarded this ship under very different circumstances.

*

_‘Dear Feliciano,_

_‘Our raid in Greece was a failure (thanks for that). It doesn’t change anything, though. I’m still staying with this pirate crew.’_

Lovino paused to look up and rub his eyes. Writing in the dark with just a candle for light is hard on the eyes. He briefly glanced at Antonio, laying on his stomach by his side, shirtless still, and probably dozing off after another long day. He wasn’t so hard on the eyes.

_‘Remember my friend Antonio I told you about? He might turn out to be more than just a friend… I don’t know how to explain it yet, but I’m curious to see how this ends._

_‘Please don’t tell Grandpa this time. It was bad enough that he ruined our raid and almost got me killed, I don’t want to find out what he’d do if he knew I was maybe seeing another man. I’m hoping that if things don’t work out with Antonio, I could always come back home. But I might not have that option anymore if you tell him about us._

_‘Since I’m part of the crew now, I can pretty much come and go as I please now. Maybe if Antonio and I become serious, we can come and visit you and Grandpa. Antonio is pretty charming, so maybe he’ll be able to charm Grandpa into liking him too! Our old man might even learn to forgive me…’_

A thought crossed Lovino’s mind. He set his paper and pen down, telling himself he’d finish later and nudged Antonio awake.

“Mm, Lovi?”

“Wake up. I have a question for you.”

Antonio pushed himself up and sat across from Lovino. “Does it have anything to do with that seriously look on your face?”

“Well, first of all, what the hell was that with Armado and Sadık today? Why did Armado agree to fight him?” This is a question Lovino had been begging to ask since the fight occurred, but it just wasn’t the right time.

“Oh, Alistair was suggesting we sell him when we land.”

“That’s it?”

“Well, Armado technically owns him now. He can do what he wants with Sadık. Armado is still afraid he’ll kill us in our sleep, so he’s tied to the mast at night and we think he’ll try to escape when we reach land, so we’ll have to supervise him carefully, but it’s still possible to get _something_ out of him.”

Now it made sense to him. What’s the harm in making Sadık a slave if they could still keep their bounty and keep him quiet too.

Antonio noticed Lovino’s eyes cast down and felt this wasn’t entirely comforting for him. “What’s bothering you?”

“Hm? Oh, no, nothing is bothering me. I was just thinking.”

Antonio moved closer to Lovino’s side. He put his arm around him and squeezed his shoulder, leaning his head onto his shoulder.

“You’re thinking about something. What is it?” asked Antonio.

Lovino sighed and pushed himself and Antonio down into their nest, so they lay side-by-side. Lovino set his head on Antonio’s chest, feeling it rise and fall with his breathing, and basking in the comfort that it offered. He hesitated briefly before explaining what was on his mind.

“It’s just that this isn’t what I imagined for myself when I was a little kid,” said Lovino.

Antonio paused to consider this. “What did you imagine?”

“I thought I’d be running a farm with a beautiful wife, and beautiful children. I expected to meet a nice woman by now and have an honest job.” Lovino snickered. “Instead, I’m a pirate on a pirate ship, surrounded by men and violence. I haven’t done anything to earn the title yet, but here I am.”

Lovino looked up at Antonio from where he lay, resting his chin on Antonio’s chest. “I’m sure you didn’t expect to be a pirate all your life either. What did you imagine your future to be like?” he asked softly.

Antonio faltered under Lovino’s gaze. “I, uh… I haven’t thought about it.”

He sat up, and Lovino saw his eyes darken again. _What the fuck, Toño?_ Instead of egging him, Lovino draped his hands over Antonio’s shoulders to comfort him.

“Great thing about the future is that there’s a lot of it,” Lovino said with a snicker.

It caused Antonio’s lips to tug into a half-smile, which quickly turned into a full, bright smile when he turned back to face Lovino. “Yeah! I just never cared to think about it.” He leaned in and kissed him again. “What’s the use of thinking about the future when it can change so easily? Yours did. So don’t be so gloomy, and just enjoy life as it comes!”

“I never said I was feeling gloomy about it,” retorted Lovino, feeling a little self-conscious by the turn the conversation took, and turning away in embarrassment.

“Then explain it to me. You’re complaining that this wasn’t what you expected.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s a bad thing!” Under his breath, Lovino mumbled that he wasn’t complaining either.

“I heard that,” chuckled Antonio.

He nestled himself in Lovino’s arms and Lovino fell backwards onto his back. Antonio inched his way up to nuzzle Lovino’s neck with soft, fluttering kisses. _I’m still not complaining_ , thought Lovino, still a little unsure how to respond to Antonio.

“You’ll figure it out,” said Antonio, now nuzzling kisses on Lovino’s collar bone.

Lovino ran his fingers through Antonio’s hair. “We’ll figure it out,” he corrected him.

Somewhat sheepishly, Antonio looked up at Lovino. “Yes. We can figure this out together,” he said, resting his chin on Lovino’s chest.

Then the most amazing thing happened. Antonio witnessed Lovino smile for the first time since they met. It was the sort of smile that was so wide, his eyes would close, and his cheeks would hurt, but Antonio couldn’t help but think he looked so happy and how he wished Lovino smiled more. It was contagious. He never wanted Lovino to stop smiling, no matter how much his cheeks hurt. He wanted to be the reason for every other smile to come.

So when Lovino’s smile faded and his eyes opened again, Antonio leaned forward. Running his hand into Lovino’s hair and cupping his head, he kissed him passionately. Softly at first, until their lips parted and moved together in an embrace all their own. When Antonio broke their kiss, Lovino pulled him back down and kissed him back, again and again. Antonio didn’t dare break their kisses again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys have realized by now that I have no idea what I’m doing.


	13. Slightly Threatened

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Friendly reminder that if you notice a mistake, it's okay to bring it to my attention! They happen more often than I would like, and I would be happy to fix them :)
> 
> Friendlier reminder that comments are beautiful things and are the perfect source of motivation for any writer :D
> 
> Friendliest reminder that I have a Tumblr where I tend to post "behind the scenes"-like content as I'm writing a chapter :0 (spoiler free, of course)

The next morning, Lovino discovered that Sadık was exclusively confined to cleaning the main deck. This meant Lovino could clean up the supply deck just as he intended. It was a job that was overdue to be done, since no one seemed able to find anything down there anymore.

Armado had his ship’s supply deck modified especially for convenience. From the prow to the trapdoor’s landing near the middle of the ship, he had a loft built for a level floor. At the edge of the loft, a rail and some netting prevented boxes and crates from falling to the bottom of the ship where the unopened and empty barrels were stacked on their sides.

Normally, the empty barrels would be placed under the loft, and the unopened ones are in the open space outside the loft, while smaller barrels, crates and boxes are on the loft. Since their supplies were running low, their empty barrels overflowed out from under the loft and in with the unopened barrels, mixing the two together and making it hard to for anyone to find what they’re looking for because there just wasn’t enough room.

Since no one else was going to do it anytime soon, Lovino started making an inventory of all the crap they had (or didn’t have) below deck.

This work was just so tedious and annoying. It seemed as though for every full barrel they had, there were 10 empty ones. Sure, it made the job go a little faster, but counting them was still a pain.

“I’m taking a break,” mumbled Lovino to himself as he climbed up the ladder to the living quarters where the kitchen could be found.

His eyes needed to adjust to the light. There was much more of it up here than the single one he used to work below. He stopped mid-step on his way to the kitchen when he found Sadık sitting at one of the tables, but continued cautiously when he saw that Enzo was with him. Lovino noticed Sadık was clean of blood, clean-shaven, and had his wrists bandaged. He was eating and no longer looked like a starving dog, although he still looked worn out from exhaustion. Spending your sleeping hours outdoors and tied to a mast can’t be too restful.

When Enzo saw Lovino approaching, his face lit up as though he’d been waiting for him. “Lovino, can you do me a favour?”

_Oh no,_ thought Lovino.

Enzo leaned in far too close, wrapping his arm around Lovino’s shoulders and said, “Look, Lovi, I seriously need to take a dump and Armado is serious about having Sadık supervised every minute. I just need you to take my place until I get back, okay? I’ll owe you one.”

“Enzo, I respect you, but this is the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard come out of your mouth.”

“Oh come on, you’ll do fine! He’s not as mean as he looks.” When Lovino gave him a stunned look, Enzo quickly added “thanks! I’ll be back,” and sauntered off, leaving Lovino effectively stranded with the Turk that was most likely plotting to kill them all.

He wasn’t even armed.

_Damn it, Enzo! You better be right about this_ , thought Lovino.

Holding down his panic and trying to control his trembling, Lovino took Enzo’s place across from Sadık at the table. He was eating pickled herrings and the smell of it was so disgusting, Lovino’s stomach recoiled and his earlier hunger was replaced with the need to vomit.

“You’re not armed,” calmly remarked Sadık.

Lovino bristled. Puffing out his chest, he replied, “That’s because I don’t need to be armed.” He wanted to sound braver than he felt.

Instead of backing off as Lovino intended, Sadık smirked. “All right.”

Minutes ticked by and Lovino’s discomfort was not dissipating. The urge to vomit eventually passed and was replaced with annoyance at watching Sadık eat while he sat there hungry.

“You seem well fed for a slave,” grumbled Lovino.

“Armado doesn’t believe in mistreating slaves,” was Sadık’s casual response. “Prisoners and enemies are a different story.”

“You’re still an enemy to me,” said Lovino with a glare.

Sadık didn’t miss a beat. “Look, buddy.” He pushed his now empty plate aside and leaned forward. “I want to take back what I said to Antonio, but I know it doesn’t work that way. I honestly couldn’t care less that he likes men.”

“You pissed him off.”

“Sorry about that.”

Lovino’s eyes narrowed. He’d resented Sadık for insulting Antonio since it happened and he’s since done nothing to show that he regretted it. “Sorry, that’s not good enough.”

Sadık awkwardly scratched the back of his head. “I’ll make it up to him.”

“How?”

“I don’t know! I’ll figure something out. I’ll apologize, I’ll do him a favour, I’ll do _something_.”

“Hey,” came Enzo. “Thanks, Lovi!”

He patted Lovino on the back. Lovino didn’t wait much longer before standing up and making his way to the kitchen. He was determined to get away from Sadık and forget about his existence altogether.

*

Time just flew by while Lovino sorted out the barrels, mainly as he tried to push Sadık out of his mind. He had a nagging feeling that the Turk was actually going to make things worse with Antonio instead of better, and that’s something Lovino didn’t feel up to dealing with. Instead of thinking too much about it, he inventoried their stock. He made a mental note to bring it to Armado’s attention that for the 100 or so men in their crew, they only had 13 barrels of drinking water left to go around.

After he’d inventoried the barrels, he moved on to the stock on the loft where he usually slept with Antonio. He’d managed to go through 3 boxes of complete crap they had tossed down here and probably hoped to find some stupid soul to buy it. _Maybe Orsino would have been stupid enough to by this teapot_ , thought Lovino as he held up the ugly thing. A grin crossed his face remembering the last time he saw Orsino and how painfully naive the man was. He tossed the teapot back into the heap he set aside for junk before moving on to the next box.

Some of the boxes were only half-full. Lovino eyed one of the trunks that was also lying about. That one was full of books. He did need to start collecting his own personal things while he was away, and considered emptying it and using it for himself. If it was sturdy enough to hold that many books, it was good enough for him.

He was in the middle of unpacking the books and stacking them in half-full boxes when the trapdoor above opened and Antonio slid down. He must have finished his turn on deck, which meant it was evening already.

“Do you remember what we talked about last night?” asked Antonio.

“Which part?”

“You said you wanted a farm.”

“Yeah? What about it?”

“Well, I’ve been thinking today,” said Antonio, sitting on a closed box near Lovino.

“Sounds dangerous,” retorted Lovino, grinning.

“Ha, ha,” replied Antonio mockingly. So long as Lovino smiled, his day would always be better. “Well, what if we got a good-sized bounty and started a farm together? I’ve never farmed a day in my life, but I’m sure you remember how it works.”

Lovino looked up at Antonio from where he sat. He knew what he was suggesting, but he briefly wondered if Antonio himself knew. He still looked his usual carefree self despite having just asked Lovino if he was willing to settle down with him.

Suddenly, everything seemed to be moving too fast… Apparently, Antonio using his head actually was dangerous.

“I already own a farmhouse in the countryside,” said Lovino, trying to keep calm as his blood pounded in his ears.

“Oh, well—”

“I don’t think you understand how much hard work goes into running a farm.”

“We’re not really going to argue again about how much hard work goes into sailing a ship this size, are we?”

“No, I just don’t think you would enjoy farming.”

Lovino went back to emptying the books from the trunk, carefully reading their covers and trying to figure out if they would be worth keeping or not. He wanted to distract himself from the crushing feeling in his chest.

Antonio didn’t seem to notice Lovino distancing himself. “I remembered today that I always loved playing the guitar, but the last one I had broke. God, I miss playing music and singing for everyone! Maybe I could perform in a local cantina and make money that way. That would be so much fun! There would be wine, dancing, and singing every night!”

Lovino grunted and continued to avoid looking at Antonio. He still hadn’t noticed Lovino’s hands began to tremble.

“Oh! And if ever we feel ready, we could always adopt. We could adopt an adorable little girl with hazel eyes like yours—”

“Stop!”

Lovino didn’t mean to sound harsh, and he felt guilty about it when Antonio recoiled, but he stood firm. “You idiot! You need to stop talking like that!”

Antonio’s eyes clouded with hurt. “Why? What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? We’ve barely known each other for 3 weeks, we’ve barely started having an actual _relationship_ , and you’re talking about adopting kids!”

“If you don’t want to adopt, I’m okay with that. It’s just that I know what it’s like to live without parents, and…” Antonio paused, forgetting where he was going with his train of thought. It’s a thought he tended to avoid.

“No, it’s not about kids.” His guilt increasing, Lovino moved towards where Antonio sat and placed a hand on his knee. “Please, Antonio, you’re supposed to be the smart one, here! You can’t possibly hear yourself and not think this is going too fast.”

“Well, it’s just that you said we’d figure this out together, so I thought…”

“Yes, we’ll figure _this_ out together first before worrying about what comes after, okay?”

Now Antonio was puzzled. “What is there to figure out?” he asked, grabbing Lovino’s hand and holding it in his own.

“Well, we might change our minds! Shit happens, you know.”

“I don’t know, Lovi. I’ve been with men and women alike and I’ve never felt about them the way I feel about you.”

“ _I’m not ready for this conversation, Antonio!_ ” Lovino yanked his hand from Antonio’s grip.

Antonio froze. He looked heartbroken, which made Lovino’s heart pound uncomfortably.

“It doesn’t mean the conversation will never happen,” he added, trying to salvage the moment. “Just not yet.”

Antonio thought about it. “What’s holding you back?”

“Well, for one, you’re stupidly attractive and I think that might be impairing my judgement,” he said shyly.

Antonio cocked an eyebrow and smirked. “Does that mean I could easily seduce you?”

Lovino’s cheeks tinted slightly, which he hoped Antonio couldn’t see in the dim light. “I’d rather not find out,” he said. “So you’ll drop the subject for now?”

Antonio shrugged. “I trust that you’ll talk to me when you’re ready.”

Lovino let a sense of relief wash over him, feeling like he’d avoided a disaster. He casually continued emptying the trunk and inspecting the books.

“Oh, um. Have you talked to Sadık today?” asked Lovino.

“No. Why?”

“No reason,” said Lovino, standing up and dusting dirt off his pants. “Forget I said anything.”

“Ok?”

“Also, you grew up in Spain, right?” he asked, pulling Antonio to his feet and dragging him to their nest.

“Yes?” Antonio picked up the lantern in passing in order to hang it in its usual spot.

“So you know where all the rich people are?” Lovino watched as Antonio grabbed the bottom hem of his shirt, pulling it out of his pants and over his head.

“Yes. Why?”

Lovino looked at him as though the answer should be obvious. “I’m a pickpocket. I’m going to pick people’s pockets while we’re in Spain.”

Lovino leaned forward to give Antonio a peck before laying down in the make-shift bed they’d been sharing these last few nights. Antonio gave him another puzzled look before laying down by his side.

“You’re acting strange,” said Antonio with a note of concern in his voice.

Lovino turned onto his side to face Antonio. “I’m not acting any different than usual.”

“You seem afraid of something.” Antonio reached his hand out to trace his fingers along Lovino’s jaw. “Please tell me if something’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong,” he grunted, but he still wiggled closer to Antonio, hoping to let his warmth seep into the stiff cold of night below the sea. Antonio wrapped him in his arms and rubbed his back and arms, trying to sooth the goosebumps covering his skin. He kissed his brow, and nudging Lovino’s chin up, he kissed his lips.

Their relationship seemed to grow every time they become intimate. Antonio was ready to take it one step farther, but worried Lovino might not be ready. He waited patiently for Lovino to deepen their kiss and when he did, Antonio shifted his body so he would lay on top of him. Since Lovino didn’t protest and continued to return his affections, he pushed it further.

Supporting his weight on one arm, Antonio ran his hand down Lovino’s chest and round the curve of his back where he grabbed a fistful of fabric from his shirt. Lovino arched his back under him, so seeing the opportunity, Antonio slightly lifted his shirt up. Lovino took the hint; he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it. He ran his fingers through Antonio’s hair, relishing the feel of it in his hands and the feel of his skin on his chest. Lovino could feel Antonio’s erection against his hip, so he knew that Antonio no doubt felt his as well. Antonio may have taken things too far talking about a future they may not be able to have, but this at least was something Lovino could handle.

Antonio wanted to continue pushing things further. This time, when he ran his hand down Lovino’s chest, he brushed it against Lovino’s erection. When Lovino arched against his touch, he took this as approval.

“Lovi,” he moaned. The sound of it made Lovino’s cheeks burn. He decided he liked the sound of Antonio moaning in pleasure.

Antonio’s kisses moved down to Lovino’s neck where he nipped gently. Lovino still held a handful of Antonio’s hair while his other hand gripped the linens tightly. He hardly noticed when Antonio’s kisses reached his stomach and were still moving down. His fingers were deftly working his drawstrings. He felt nervous and excited, but he didn’t protest when Antonio slid his slacks down, freeing him from the constraint of it.

Lovino didn’t know what to expect, but his heart began to flutter. He leaned up on his elbows in order to get a better view of Antonio stroking his length and kissing his inner thighs. Lovino still gripped the hair at the nape of Antonio’s neck when Antonio licked the tip of his cock and slid it into his mouth, causing a moan to slip from Lovino’s lips.

Antonio’s arousal was becoming too much for him. He moved his hand down to his own and started stroking himself as he sucked Lovino’s.

“Oh, Tonio,” moaned Lovino as he laid back down. “Fuck, that feels good.” Lovino’s hips bucked in pleasure. Antonio’s tongue gave him sensations that he could never give himself. Antonio alternated between sucking his tip and licking his length, making Lovino’s head swim.

“Oh god, it’s coming.” He couldn’t hold himself back much longer. Antonio pulled away just as Lovino climaxed, trembling. Catching his breath and letting his blood cool, Lovino noticed Antonio panting and moaning still as he continued to pleasure himself. He was on his knees now, leaning forward on one arm with his other hand gripped firmly around his erection and it gave plenty of room for Lovino to watch.

“You like having my cock in your mouth that much, huh?”

“Lovi,” panted Antonio, a smirk playing on his lips. “Keep talking like that.”

“I want to see you cum with my name on your lips,” murmured Lovino. “You’re the most sexy bastard I’ve ever met and I’d be damned if I don’t fuck you once .”

“Oh, god, Lovi,” cried Antonio, his passion finally exploding. With his eyes still closed in bliss, he searched for Lovino and met his lips, kissing him roughly. Catching his breath, he said, “We’ll sleep well tonight.”

Lovino could only smile in agreement. He counted himself lucky for finding a man so amazing and silently hoped every night could be as pleasurable as this one.


	14. Brothers Worlds Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FrUK is a thing now… Sorry about that.  
> Also, thank you for your comments! They really do make me happy :)

_Dear Feliciano,_

_Our raid in Greece was a failure (thanks for that). It doesn’t change anything, though. I’m still staying with this pirate crew. Remember my friend Antonio I told you about? He might turn out to be more than just a friend… I don’t know how to explain it yet, but I’m curious to see how this ends._

_Please don’t tell Grandpa this time. It was bad enough that he ruined our raid and almost got me killed, I don’t want to find out what he’d do if he knew I was maybe seeing another man. I’m hoping that if things don’t work out with Antonio, I could always come back home. But I might not have that option anymore if you tell him about us._

_Since I’m part of the crew now, I can pretty much come and go as I please now. Maybe if Antonio and I become serious, we can come and visit you and Grandpa. Antonio is pretty charming, so maybe he’ll be able to charm Grandpa into liking him too! Our old man might even learn to forgive me…_

_Antonio and I have decided to come back and visit within a year. No, it’s not another pirate raid—it’ll just be the two of us._

_When I left and joined Armado’s crew, it never occurred to me I would miss you and Grandpa this much. I’m one of very few members on this crew to have a family at all, and I stupidly let you go. Armado and Antonio insist it doesn’t have to be that way. Besides, I really want to know what you think of Antonio…_

_With love,  
_ _Lovino_  

* * *

Arthur was still reading over his commission contract. He couldn’t believe his luck. For years, he’d been sending requests to the British Navy to let him hunt down Armado’s crew, and after what happened in the Ottoman Empire, they finally gave him permission.

He sat at his desk in his cabin, rereading the commission letter over and over again. He was waiting for one of his long-term pirate hunting partners to show up so they can discuss strategies. He absently drummed his fingers against his mahogany desk where a single candle burnt away and illuminated the paper in front of him, signed by his admiral and stamped by the King of England.

His ship was safely docked in Weymouth, in the southern part of England. The rain outside pelted against the windowpanes of the Man-O-War as it lulled in the waves. Arthur found it quite soothing. Only the guards on duty were left aboard the ship, but he would have to gather everyone in the morning—assuming his partner ever showed up.

Arthur was just starting to doze off at his desk when he heard footsteps on the deck approaching his cabin. At first he thought the guards were just switching shifts, until he realized the pacing was wrong. Whoever was walking on deck was taking their time and purposely prolonging Arthur’s wait.

It was amazing how easy it was for Francis to infuriate him.

The Frenchman entered Arthur’s cabin in a jovial mood. Arthur waited patiently as Francis hung his long overcoat on a peg by the closed door and took a seat in the wingback chair across from him. Arthur observed him carefully for the first time in months.

“Seeing you now, one would never guess you were once just a hunter,” complimented Arthur as he leaned back in his chair.

Francis chuckled. “I’m so glad you noticed. This is the latest fashion amongst the noble class in France,” he said as he gestured to his new outfit.

“Is there any reason why you’re late meeting me?” scowled Arthur.

“I’ve been busy.”

“Are you telling me you’re too busy for a commission job?”

“For you? _Never_ ,” purred Francis.

Arthur grinned and said, “Good.”

He handed the letter to Francis. As he read it, his expression darkened. “I don’t think this is a good idea,” said Francis.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not a good idea’,” repeated Arthur mockingly.

“I find your obsession with your brother to be rather unhealthy.”

“I’m not _obsessed!_ ”

“This letter says otherwise, cher.”

“I’d rather call it a grudge,” added Arthur stubbornly.

“How does this remotely qualify as a grudge?!”

Arthur paused to consider this. “Alistair is the single source of _shame_ in our family. Our father spent good money so he could be highly educated and become a physician and yet he’s wasted his knowledge to become a bloody pirate.”

“So you’re actively hunting down your own brother in order to kill him just for finding his calling?”

“What sort of bloody calling is that?! I wouldn’t expect you to understand since you weren’t born in a noble family like I was, but you can take my word for it: he’s a stain on the Kirkland name and I intend to fix that.”

“I don’t like this, Arthur.”

“You don’t have to like it. You just need to help me hunt them.”

“And how do you intend to do that?” asked Francis, sounding increasingly frustrated.

“I heard their ship was damaged by the Ottomans, so they should be off repairing it by now.”

“And where might that be?”

“Isn’t that your job to figure out?”

“Yes, of course,” said Francis with a wave of his hand. Arthur’s hands were tied by the military; Francis, as a privateer, had all the freedom he could ever need and the protection of the British Empire at his back. “But tell me this: what will you do when you find your estranged brother? Are you sure you’ll be able to kill him like the rest? What if the rumours of him being with Armado are wrong?”

“The rumours are solid, and I’m hoping it won’t come to that,” said Arthur morosely. “Perhaps I’ll be able to talk some sense into him if I’m firm enough.”

Francis quirked a smile. “I do like it when you’re _firm_.”

“Not now, Francis,” said Arthur sternly.

“Tsk. And what if he won't listen? You still think you can kill him?”

“I won’t have a choice. He chose his life and I chose mine.”

Arthur’s expression had become grim, just as it always did when he thought of his brother’s fate. “Oh, Arthur, get your mind off it!”

“And how do you propose I do that?”

Francis gave him a knowing smile. “I know of something that never fails to cheer you up,” he murmured.

Arthur smiled coyly. “Go on.” He stood from his chair.

Francis watched him make his way around the desk. “You need to loosen up first. I won’t help you otherwise.”

“You said you would never be too busy for me,” said Arthur grinning. He sat in Francis’ lap, straddling him.

“I’m beside myself on this.” Francis rubbed up Arthur’s thighs slowly. “On the one hand, I’m not busy right now. On the other hand, you always keep me so busy,” he purred.

Arthur ran one hand through his lover’s long blond hair. “You tell a single soul about us and I will rip your throat out with my bare hands.”

Francis grinned. He knew that although Arthur spoke of violent things that way, he cared too much to actually act on them. “I would never dare taint your family name, Cpt. Kirkland.”

Arthur leaned down to kiss the Frenchman. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said grinning. “One family can only afford so much scandal.” 

* * *

They were lucky they were able to dock the _Madreperla_ in the shipyard before the storm hit the coast. If they had been a few hours later, they might have drowned at sea. As it was, no one has had any water or food in the last day and a half because their stock ran out. So having spoken to his contact at the shipyard about repairing the ship and how long it might take, Armado gathered the crew briefly on the beach in Spain.

“Bahamas?” he shouted.

The crew shouted in agreement. The single word was all it took. Armado announced to everyone that the ship would take a few weeks, so they should all be sure to return within two weeks if they wanted to take part on the trip to the Bahamas.

As soon as this quick meeting was over, everyone parted ways, leaving Armado and Sadık behind. Lovino stood back. He knew the Bahamas would be farther away than he ever imagined. The letter he intended to send home today weighed on his mind when he wondered how long it might take for them to return from a trip like that and whether he really would get the chance to see his brother again.

“Lovi, what’s wrong?” Antonio had hung back waiting for Lovino to follow him to the city with the rest.

“Oh, I just have a thing to talk about with Armado,” he replied absently.

“Oh, all right. I’ll just get us a room in a tavern nearby. Don’t get lost, okay?”

“Sure.”

Lovino watched Antonio disappear in the city before he turned his attention back to Armado. He seemed to be giving orders to Sadık before heading back to the ship. Lovino followed and tried to catch up with him.

“Armado!” he shouted to get his attention.

The man turned back and slowed down to let Lovino catch up. “What?”

Lovino stumbled. “Uh, Bahamas?” he asked.

Armado sighed. “Just the usual raid and invade. Half our crew grew up in the Bahamas, you know,” he added matter-of-factly. “They’re eager to go home as much as you are, and they’ve waited much longer than you.” He motioned for Lovino to follow as he made his way back to the shipyard with Sadık on their heels. “Once we finish our visit to the Bahamas, we’ll come back, and you and Antonio can go your merry ways to Italy.” Armado spun, pointing a finger at Lovino and a smirk appearing on his distorted face. “So long as you continue to take part.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“And don’t tell your grandfather where you’re going this time.”

“I know.”

“Good lad. And don’t worry about the stocks. I have a man that’ll take care of that for you. Enjoy Spain while you can and go make us some money with those ‘special skills’ of yours.” Armado patted Lovino on the back and entered the shipyard, Sadık still on his heels and quiet.

Lovino spun back and looked out at sea, suddenly feeling very lost. Somewhere on the other side of that wide expanse of sea was his home, his family’s little farmhouse he grew up in, and the city his grandfather built a business in with his bare hands. That was where Lovino’s entire life was, and yet this is where he was starting it all over again.

He turned his back on the sea and looked up at the city in front of him. It was similar to the city he grew up in with his brother, and he had to remind himself that he was in a different city. _Antonio might take a while_ , he thought. He might be alone for a while, and somehow the thought of being alone in this new city was distressing. He didn’t want to wait out here by the sea until Antonio came back, especially since he was thirsty and hungry.

Then he remembered he had no money to buy food or water. _Time to get to work_ , he thought with a smirk. At worst, he could return to the ship for shelter and Antonio could find him there.

Lovino wandered the streets, casually blending in with the locals. He oddly missed the thrill of the hunt that came with pickpocketing. He carefully observed the people around him as they walked or rushed about between the various buildings and vendors’ tables. Dusk was only a few hours away, but people were bustling to get home before the storm hits. This meant they were distracted and Lovino could take advantage of this. He wasn’t afraid of being caught in a storm—he’d seen much worse than what was coming.

From the corner of his eye, he found a small group of men coming out of what looked like either a restaurant or a bar. They looked like they’d been drinking, and Lovino caught a glimpse of a coin pouch on one of them, before he quickly covered it with his coat. Lovino followed them a good distance, being careful to keep track of where he was going so he could backtrack to the coast. They were about to walk through a market. Perfect. Lovino walked ahead to blend into the crowd, pretending to look around the stalls, always watching the man with the coin pouch from the corner of his eye. He came closer. The man stopped at a fruit stall and bought some apples. The man turned, he bumped into Lovino, there was a slight of hand and a curse, then the man and his friends were on their way before he noticed. Lovino turned back, slid the coin pouch in his shirt and disappeared into an alley. No one saw a thing.

Lovino waited until he was a considerable distance away before taking a deep breath to still his beating heart. It had been too long since he practiced his skill. Feeling confident again, he quickened his pace as he walked back to the coast.

Then he felt watched. He didn’t know where the feeling came from, but it made his skin crawl. He was almost at the end of the alley when he turned to find the man he’d just stolen from was at the other end. In a string of Spanish too quick for Lovino to understand, the man approached. Lovino spun back to run the other way, but in his earlier desperation for a quick getaway, he didn’t realize the other end was fenced.

“You little bitch! You think you can steal from me and live?!” shouted the angry Spaniard, followed closely by his friends. “I’ll kill you for this!”

Lovino panicked. He wanted to run, but he had nowhere to go. “I—I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“You lying piece of shit!”

The Spaniard pulled out a knife. Lovino was unarmed. Fat drops of rain started falling. Within minutes, his blood would mingle with the rain and drown the cobblestones at his feet.

“ANTONIO!” shouted Lovino in desperation. A cry for help was all he had left to do, cornered in this alley with three armed men that were bigger than him. He heard thunder in the distance.

There was no way Antonio could hear him wherever he might be in this big city. Lovino sent a silent prayer to God, hoping Feliciano would never get his letter and live with the disappointment of his brother never coming home as he promised, and hoping Antonio will miss him too much.


	15. Lost

Lovino tried to back away from the men, but slipped and fell backwards on the wet cobblestones. He tried not to think too hard about the pain he was about to suffer as they cut his face up, stab him, or abuse his body before leaving him there to bleed to death, alone and worthless. His attackers were approaching faster than he could writhe away and before he knew it, blood splattered his face.

It wasn’t his own. He looked up to see a sword pulling out of the first man’s stomach, split the second man’s throat, and chopped at the third man’s neck in a blur of movement, making Antonio the only man left standing.

“Tonio,” mustered Lovino through his clenched throat.

The rain was pouring now, masking Lovino’s tears of relief from seeing Antonio at least one last time. It washed away most of the blood from his sword and Lovino’s face. He tried to stand back up, but his legs wobbled, causing him to slip again. Antonio rushed to his side and helped him to his feet.

“Did they hurt you,” asked Antonio with concern.

“You shouldn’t have left me alone,” snapped Lovino, still terrified and shaken.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” he said, thinking now wasn’t the time to point out Lovino wandered on his own. “I found us a room near the coast. We’ll dry up and get changed there.”

Lovino’s expression softened as he nodded. “I’m sorry, Toño—”

“Don’t even worry about it. Let’s just get you someplace warm.”

They were walking around the corpses, when Lovino spun back and stooped down to loot them.

“What are you doing,” asked Antonio puzzled.

Lovino cleared his throat and wiped the snot from his face. “It’s easier to pick someone’s pockets when they’re dead.” As it turned out, all three of them had something worth looting.

Antonio found this so absurd, that he couldn’t hold back his laughter.

“What?!” snapped back Lovino.

“It’s just—,” Antonio took a deep breath, “—I cut them down and you loot them. We make a great team, you and I.” He continued to laugh as he held Lovino’s hand and led him to the tavern room they would share.

His laugh was contagious and mellowed Lovino’s nerves considerably. The fact that Antonio was holding his hand as well was a great comfort to him. By the time they had reached the tavern, they were both soaked to the bone and were grateful to find refuge from the storm indoors. There was no one along the way to question why they were stained in blood.

“What were you doing in that alley anyway,” asked Lovino as he entered the room and tossed his new found loot on a dresser opposite the bed.

“I was in the marketplace buying food and stuff when I heard you screaming,” answered Antonio, tossing the satchel he carried onto the bed.

Lovino perked up. “You have food?”

“Yes, and I’ll go get some water from the tavern downstairs.”

“Oh thank God,” cried Lovino. “Your Spanish food _has_ to be better than the crap we’ve been eating aboard that ship.”

“Spanish food is delicious.”

“Of course you would say that! I’ll be the judge of that,” muttered Lovino, removing his shirt to wring it out in the water basin provided on the dresser. Antonio did the same before he left the room to fetch drinking water, leaving Lovino alone again.

Lovino rummaged through Antonio’s bag and found apples and nuts, as well as a shirt and a small ceramic bottle. He picked up one of the apples and started munching at it, starving from fasting for the past day and a half. His mind wandered back to the incident in the alley and how cowardly he felt. He wanted to be brave like Grandpa, but he discovered today that given the chance, he couldn’t do it. Dwelling on it made his stomach hurt, and he started to find it difficult to swallow down the apple he was eating. He was about to give up when Antonio returned with a jug of water and two glasses, lightening Lovino’s mood considerably now that he felt safe again.

Antonio poured water into the two glasses and set the jug down on the dresser next to the basin as Lovino tossed his apple core out the window. He handed one of the glasses to Lovino.

“Is pickpocketing really worth what you risk,” asked Antonio, not bothering to mask the concern creeping into his voice.

“What happened tonight was a first for me actually, so I would say it is,” answered Lovino gloomily.

Antonio discarded his shirt and left it to dry next to Lovino’s on the only chair in the room. He drank his water down and sat down on the bed, motioning for Lovino to sit next to him. Lovino sipped his own water before sitting down as well.

“At least we get to sleep in a real bed tonight,” remarked Antonio cheerfully, trying to brighten Lovino’s mood.

“I know,” said Lovino as he leaned into Antonio.

Antonio kissed his temple and started rubbing Lovino’s shoulders and back. Since most of the other crew members would still be sleeping on the ship at the dock, Lovino somehow knew where Antonio was going renting the room to give them privacy, but it hadn’t entirely sunk in yet. Somehow, his mind seemed to focus primarily on a good night’s sleep instead. Antonio leaned over to kiss Lovino before moving his bag to the nightstand. He slipped the small ceramic bottle Lovino noticed before out of the bag and set it aside.

“Let’s get to bed,” cooed Antonio.

“What’s that,” asked Lovino, pointing at the bottle Antonio fished out.

“It’s just olive oil. Relax,”added Antonio. “I won’t hurt you.”

Lovino’s face turned a vivid red at the implication. “Not tonight,” he responded firmly.

“Aw, but I was hoping to cheer you up tonight,” pouted Antonio.

“I said no,” repeated Lovino with a slight whine in his voice.

Antonio leaned back, feeling a little hurt by the rejection. “All right,” he said smiling and he kissed Lovino’s temple again. “Let’s sleep.”

They slipped under the itchy covers of the bed. Lovino instinctively wrapped himself in Antonio’s arms and nestled there, comfortably warm, he had the best sleep he had in weeks.

*

Thunder rolled and shook Lovino awake. His heart was beating fast thinking it was cannon fire again, but he soon realized it was just the storm brewing outside. Antonio was on his back now and still slept soundly, gently snoring with his mouth hanging open.

Lovino tried to fall back to sleep, but somehow couldn’t manage, still thinking about what occurred that day and how, for the first time since their relationship began, he didn’t want Antonio anymore. Antonio frankly terrified him in ways he never experienced before and he just felt like running away. Doubt crept into his mind and clawed at his chest, leaving him gasping for breath and desperate to get out into the fresh air. He grabbed his damp, blood-stained shirt off the chair, grabbed the dead man’s money pouch from the dresser, and left the room so he could roam the streets of the city and clear his head, to consider what he should do next.

It was tempting to drop everything and go back home. There was nothing to stop him from going to the farm house, fixing it up, and starting his life as a humble farmer—except for distance. There was nothing stopping him from going home to help Grandpa around the bookstore or Feliciano with his paintings—except their forgiveness. As Lovino aimlessly walked through the rain, he even considered staying in Spain and starting his life all over—except knowing he might encounter Antonio again. The first, he was too lazy to do; the second, he was too afraid to try; the third one broke his heart to consider and he pushed it out of his mind. His nerves were all jumbled from the attack in the alley and he couldn’t think these things out clearly.

In the drone of the rain, Lovino distantly heard laughter and screams. He tried to work his mind around the fog to think in what situation laughter and screams could happen at the same time at this time of the night. Looking about, he realized he was in a sketchy looking part of the city and all around him were bars and brothels. Lovino realized he could go for a drink right now. He took a peek inside the money pouch he grabbed on his way out and found there was more than enough for a few drinks. _Rich bastard better not have any relatives out looking for him_ , thought Lovino bitterly.

Lovino strode towards the nearest bar. He entered the building and ruffled the rainwater out of his hair while wringing out his shirt again. He walked up to the bar, feigning complete confidence, and careful to mask his accent, he ordered a bottle of red wine in Spanish. The Italian paid for the wine upfront and taking his bottle and a glass with him, went to sit at a table in a corner where he could observe the crowd around him. He poured himself a generous glass and started sipping casually while looking around the room. Partially out of habit, he started scoping the room for cute girls that weren’t already being drooled on by nasty Spanish drunks. None of them really caught his eye by the time he finished his glass of wine.

He poured himself another generous glass. If it wasn’t for the fact that everyone was speaking Spanish, the atmosphere, the dancing, and the singing would remind him of home. Across the room, there was a man with a short and stocky girl in his lap that noticed Lovino sitting and drinking alone. Lovino then realized he was probably scowling as he looked about the room and thought it might make others uncomfortable. _Damn them_ , he thought. _I paid for my wine and I can drink it here if that’s what I fucking want._ The well-dressed man shooed the stocky girl away and approached Lovino at his table.

“You look like you could use someone to talk to,” he said.

Lovino scowled purposefully this time. “I don’t want your fucking company, old man.” He knew he was being rude, but he really did just want to be left alone.

“A bar isn’t the place to be if you want to be left alone,” remarked the man. “My name is Adrian.” He turned to a nearby barmaid. “I’ll have a bottle of wine and a glass, please.” Adrian sat down at Lovino’s table. He smirked and winked at Lovino. “You look like you could use some fun.”

“If you want to get in my pants, you’ll have to buy me dinner first,” scoffed Lovino, hoping it would get the man to leave him alone.

It came as a surprise when Adrian opted to scoot his chair closer and asked the barmaid to bring roasted lamb for ‘his new friend,’ which Lovino resented.

“The food and the wine is on me, friend. I spare no expense,” said Adrian, sporting a grin that made Lovino’s skin crawl, but in the mood he was in, he wasn’t about to refuse free food and wine.

The Spaniard kept trying to start a conversation with Lovino about various things he didn’t care about. By the time he’d finished the first bottle, the lamb dish arrived and he dug in while starting on the second bottle that came along. All the while, the man chatted away casually, refilling his glass and talking about how his wife was pregnant with her fifth child now and he hoped this one would be as beautiful as the first four. Adrian didn’t bother asking Lovino’s name or where he was from, which Lovino was grateful for, but couldn’t help thinking it was strange. The man was just so casually welcoming and likeable, even if he was pushy. Lovino remembered mumbling that he didn’t have kids and didn’t want them right now, but that his lover seemed adamant about having some and he didn’t know what to do about it. Everything was just a blur now, but the wine was free-flowing and _oh god_ was this Spanish wine ever good.

Then Adrian said something strange.

“It’s so nice to forget your loved ones for a night,” he said. “When things get difficult with your lover, and nothing is going right, you just want to loosen up and have a good night out, right?”

“That sounds pretty fucking good right now,” he hiccupped.

“I know of a place that can do just that for you,” added Adrian, leaning forward. “Come with me and you will be able to forget your troubles for the night,” he said, fiddling with one of the three empty bottles on the table. Lovino couldn’t recall if he saw Adrian drink any of it.

“Let’s go,” shouted Lovino. His mind was foggy and he was amazed he hadn’t fallen over as soon as he stood up. _To hell with Antonio and his perfect little children_ , he thought resentfully in his drunken haze. _I’m just not fucking ready!_

The rain outside slowed to a light drizzle as Lovino followed Adrian down the street to a large building where some of the louder screams were coming from. All the windows had curtains pulled over them, so Lovino couldn’t tell what was happening.

“Hey, is someone being murdered in here?” he asked jokingly.

“No,” casually replied Adrian. “It’s right in here.”

He opened the door to the building, and let Lovino follow through. The smell of strong incense permeated the air in swirls of smoke with small fires in torches around the room. There were several doorways curtained off from the main room with screams and moans escaping from them. Lovino found this all oddly arousing.

“Have fun, my friend,” said Adrian, creeping up behind him. “Choose any girl you like.”

Adrian disposed of his coat and hung it on a peg near the door. “My more luxurious girls are upstairs, if you’re in the mood for something more exotic.”

Lovino felt his head spinning, partially from the alcohol and partially from the incense. Slowly, it clicked into his slurring brain that Adrian took him to a brothel that he somehow owned. A part of Lovino wanted to be angry for being duped into coming, but another part of him thought _God, it would be so nice to be with a girl again_. He wanted to remember what being with a woman felt like to clear his head of his panic over Antonio. He wanted to know that being with Antonio was not a mistake as he’d begun to feel recently.

Lovino carefully paced his way around the room, observing the girls around him. He steered clear of the young looking ones. A few weren’t as attractive as one would expect from a brothel, but Lovino assumed they must be skilled and most likely cheaper. Making his way as casually as he could towards the back of the building, Lovino found a gem. She reminded him of an earth-born goddess of India with her dark brown skin, black hair and impossibly light green eyes. His mouth quirked into a half-smile seeing her. She locked eyes, and he began to approach her. She did not return his smile, but she waited for him to join her before leading him off to a large room curtained off for privacy and a large canopy bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The same Adrian is back to ruin Antonio's life some more. How 'bout that...


	16. Mistakes

Bright sunlight spilled through the window and threatened to split Lovino’s head open. The amount of regret he felt about the night before amounted to about as much as he drank. He shielded his eyes from the light and groaned in pain. He felt heat radiating at his back and rolled over to find Antonio wide awake and laying on his own back, an arm behind his head, acting as a cushion. He was staring blankly at the ceiling; he seemed well-rested, but upset.

Lovino made a mental note to tackle the ‘why are you upset’ conversation after his head mended from the night before. With that resolution set, he rolled over onto his stomach, facing away from the glaring light of the window and towards Antonio. He closed his eyes, hoping to sleep the pain away.

“I woke up in the middle of the night,” stated Antonio. “I woke up and you weren’t here.” He rolled onto his side to get a good look at Lovino. “You were gone for hours. Where did you go?”

Lovino’s face darkened and his heart began to palpitate remembering where he was the night before. “I couldn’t sleep.”

“Okay?” Antonio waited for the rest. He knew there was more. “You smell like vomit and incense.”

Lovino’s heart rate accelerated some more. He was beginning to panic because he felt guilty about what happened. He wanted to come clean and make it up to Antonio. “I went out for a walk to clear my head. I went into a bar. I had too much to drink. Some guy saw me and led me to a brothel, and—”

“So you just went, right?” Antonio’s interruption was sharp. He couldn’t remember being this upset before now. He felt betrayed. “You turn me down and sneak out in the night to be with a whore?”

“What? No, Toño, I’m not finished!”

But Antonio wasn’t listening anymore. He’d gotten up, out of bed, and pulled his shirt on hastily. He wanted to reconsider his decision to have ever become close to this Italian, this _foreigner_. “I think I’ve heard everything I need to hear,” he said before walking out of their room, leaving Lovino behind, hurting and bewildered.

Antonio felt sure of his feelings for Lovino, but after he snuck out last night, all that certainty was upheaved. He wanted to trust his Italian lover, but he began to wonder if he’d fallen too quickly for him. Perhaps he’d misread their relationship, and that’s why Lovino had been distancing himself from him.

One way or another, Antonio wanted a second opinion, and sought his two closest friends out for answers, no matter how dumb about love they might be.

Antonio knew Enzo would be at the shipyard, so that’s where he went first. If he was lucky, then Alistair would be there too instead of in a nice rented room where he usually preferred to sleep.

Even in this early hour, the shipyard echoed with the sound of hammers and saw on wood, and Antonio silently hoped no one slept on the boat while it was being repaired. He boarded the ship and went below deck, where he knew he would find Enzo in the living quarters. Surprisingly, he was still snoozing away on his hammock when Antonio found him and shoved him awake.

“Enzo, wake up,” he nudged. Enzo groaned, refusing to open his eyes. “Enzo, I need you! This is urgent!” Enzo simply pulled the covers tighter around his shoulders. “I will kick you so damn hard, you will resent me for the rest of your life, and I won’t remotely regret it.”

A discernible sigh could be heard through the covers. Enzo rolled over to face Antonio. “Fuck off,” he mumbled.

“Yeah, after I talk to you.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” he whined.

“Enzo, this is a matter of life or death,” added Antonio seriously.

Enzo groaned and sighed, but he rolled himself over and landed on the hardwood flooring with a loud thump.

“Who’s dying?”

“You, if you don’t get up!”

“Okay! I’m up! Make it worth it, pal,” he retorted angrily, standing unsteadily on his feet.

“Where’s Ally? I want to talk to both of you.”

Enzo shooed Antonio in the general direction of the ladder as he rubbed sleep from one eye. Antonio looked at him sceptically before following the direction he indicated. Then Enzo led him into Armado’s cabin, where he found Alistair sitting over maps with his travel instruments. He didn’t look as though he’d slept much recently.

“What,” asked Alistair curtly. He was not sparing time for pleasantries.

“I need help… If you have time,” he added, seeing the crazed look in Alistair’s eyes.

“No, I could use a break,” he said, taking the stopper off a rum bottle. “What do you want?”  He took a swig.

“I don’t want anyone else hearing about this, understand?” Antonio looked around at the work crews fixing the hole in the cabin, so he motioned for Enzo and Alistair to follow him somewhere private. “No one else needs to know about my problems.”

Enzo scoffed behind him. “Since when do you have problems? You’ve always been the type to let shit roll off your back.”

“Being cheerful doesn’t mean I’m happy, Enzo,” said Antonio, with a hint of fury. He quickly tried to collect himself; he reminded himself that he wasn’t angry with Enzo.

“So get on with the meeting: what’s troubling you,” inquired Alistair. They had just reached the supply deck at the lowest part of the ship, where the sounds of men working was muffled by the wood.

Antonio took a moment to consider while Enzo took a seat next to Alistair on top of a barrel. “I need to know what you both think of Lovino.”

Alistair looked at him like he asked a stupid question, and Enzo shrugged.

“Grumpy little fucker, but he seems nice enough,” said Enzo.

“What he said,” added Alistair, pointing at Enzo. “But that’s not why you’re here, so what the bloody hell is wrong?” Alistair took another swig.

“What sort of relationship do you think Lovino wants with me? Friendship? Romantic? What?” Antonio was getting increasingly nervous.

“You two seemed pretty close to me, buddy!” Alistair’s shout made Antonio wince.

“Keep it down!”

“I’m going to shout as much as I fucking want, until you decide to stop pussyfooting around the bloody issue! Spit it!”

Antonio wrung his hands and took a seat opposite Alistair. “It’s because I thought Lovino and I were close too, but he admitted to going to a brothel last night…”

Enzo and Alistair waited for more, puzzled. When none came, Enzo asked, “What exactly did he say?”

So Antonio retold what happened the night before, trying to spare the intimate details. By the time he’d finished, Alistair had drunk half the bottle of rum. There was something he wanted to say, so he slammed his fist down on the barrel he sat on, his drink spilling over the floorboards. “That son of a bitch,” he slurred, and fell asleep sitting up. Enzo sighed, and got up to lift the drunk and lay him down on the floor so he wouldn’t fall over and hurt himself.

Enzo straightened up and looked at Antonio squarely. “Personally, I think you should let him explain himself.”

“You think there’s more to it?”

“I think he cares about you and wouldn’t want to hurt you.”

“I don’t know if I want to hear the explanation.”

Enzo slipped an annoyed grunt. “Then go ahead and avoid him all you want. Don’t give him a chance. Be selfish.”

Then he left Antonio alone, in the dark belly of the ship. Alistair’s faint snores and the sound of woodwork above were his only distractions from his thoughts. He tried to consider the options: either Lovino wasn’t interested the way Antonio had hoped, or he was interested and simply made a mistake. On the one hand, Antonio couldn’t continue to chase after someone that was just using him, and on the other hand, Lovino was human and mistakes happen. Eventually, Antonio might be able to forgive Lovino for sleeping with someone else behind his back, but not right now, when the sense of betrayal was still too raw.

 

* * *

Lovino spent most of the day in bed, getting up only occasionally to eat, sleep, or relieve himself. He spent the day wishing and crying for Antonio to come back, so he could explain to him what happened and hope for his forgiveness. Barely a thought crossed his mind where he didn’t curse Adrian for getting him drunk and bringing him to that brothel. He cursed himself harder for ever leaving Antonio’s side. He hated knowing Antonio was upset with him.

He promised himself that he would do anything to earn Antonio’s forgiveness and if he did, he would never hurt him like this again.

An orange light started seeping through the window, telling Lovino that the sun was setting, and Antonio still hadn’t returned.

“I really fucked up,” he cried to himself.

Ignoring the aches in his body and the pounding in his head, Lovino got out of bed and slipped his blood-stained shirt back on. He was going to have to buy himself a new one soon. Not wanting to leave anything behind in this tavern, not trusting anyone to leave it alone, he picked up Antonio’s satchel, put all their belongings in it, and walked back out the door to their room.

The first place he thought of looking was the ship. The cacophony from the workers did nothing to help the pounding in his head, but he still moved forward, getting desperate to find Antonio and make things right by him.

The first place he looked was the living quarters. He looked around, hoping to find Antonio’s frame or messy brown hair. His heart almost skipped a beat when he thought he’d finally caught sight of him, until he realized it was Enzo he’d found. Lovino tried to calm his nerves before approaching the man to ask him where Antonio was.

When Alistair, sitting with Enzo, caught sight of Lovino coming over, he gave a hard look, and pointed him out to Enzo, who also turned around and gave Lovino a hard look. Lovino’s heart almost stopped seeing the looks they were giving him; he guessed Antonio had already talked to them.

By the time he was close enough to talk without raising his voice, his hands were shaking. “Ha—have you seen Antonio around?” He voice was shaking too.

“Not since this morning,” replied Enzo, but his eyes did not soften.

“Don’t look for him,” barked Alistair.

“Why?”

“Because if he doesn’t want to see you or talk to you, then you won’t find him.”

“You upset him, Lovino,” said Enzo sharply. “Just be patient.”

Be patient? Lovino didn’t want to be patient anymore. The longer it took for him to make things right with Antonio, the worse his guilt became.

“Any idea where I can find Armado, then,” asked Lovino after a long pause.

“Not a clue,” answered Alistair. “Bastard disappeared the day we got here and left Sadık with us. We just assumed he went out looking for a buyer for the slave.”

Lovino nodded, his hopes lost, and turned back on his heels. He didn’t know where any of Antonio’s haunts are in the city, so his only bet was to stay at the tavern until he returned. He hoped Alistair and Enzo were right in believing he would come back when he was ready.

 

* * *

_In the last seven years, Armado had shown Antonio the world. They have travelled to the Bahamas, to Venezuela, Greece, Italy, France, Tunisia, Egypt, the list went on. In all that time, Antonio had practiced his sword fighting skills with Armado almost every day and now he can proudly say he’s as good a swordsman as any other pirate. Or at least, he would if Armado let him take part in any of the action. Whenever they even risked getting into a fight, Armado sent Antonio down to the supply deck to wait out the fight and Antonio found that unfair. He was 14 and he should be considered a man just like all the others!_

_And now, after these seven short years at sea, he was right back where it all began. Armado decided to dock in Spain, where he knew the ship builders by name, because he wanted to customize the ship he recently acquired from the Spanish Navy. He was told they would be docked here for weeks and that he was free to do anything he wanted during their stay._

_Antonio already knew what he wanted to do once they arrived in Spain: he wanted to go back to the orphanage and show that old hag that he really did amount to something. He made his way downtown with gusto. He knew exactly where the orphan’s home was supposed to be, so he was surprised to find a dilapidated building in its place. There were bottles, broken glass, and papers strewn around the yard. Most of the windows were broken and all of them were curtained or boarded. He walked up the pathway to the front door, wriggling is nose at the smell of urine and vomit that seemed to permeate the ground he walked on. The closer he got, the worse the smell became._

_Just as he was about to grasp the handle on the door, an ear-splitting shriek was heard coming from his old home, startling Antonio into stepping back. Then it fell as silent as death again, save for the sound of strewn papers rustling in the light breeze._

_“You don’t want to go in there,” came a distant voice. Antonio spun around to find a teenager looking at him from the road. “That’s where all the drunks and dopes live.”_

_Antonio squinted. He could have sworn the figure was familiar. He walked over to where the teenager stood, creating distance between himself and the creepy old house. Then the young man’s identity clicked in Antonio’s mind._

_“Adrian?”_

_Adrian startled at hearing his name coming from a stranger’s mouth, and then Antonio’s identity clearly clicked into his mind as well. “Oh, hey, you came back,” he stated, not bothering to pretend he was happy to see him. “We all just assumed you went off and killed yourself.”_

_Antonio couldn’t tell if Adrian was joking or serious. “Why would I…,” he started, but decided he must have been joking. “What happened here,” he asked instead._

_Adrian absently scratched at his stubble. “The old witch died and the place went to shit.”_

_“So what happened to all the orphans,” he asked, having caught up to Adrian at the road._

_“Most of them ran away like us. Some of them never left,” he added, pointing his chin at the orphanage. He turned his attention to Antonio. “So what have you been up to the last several years?” He started walking away from the decrepit building._

_“I’ve, uh, been travelling,” answered Antonio as he followed Adrian wherever he was going._

_“You mean you’ve been stowing away,” mocked Adrian._

_“No, I mean I’ve been working with a sailor,” retorted Antonio. “But what have you been doing?”_

_At that, Adrian turned to look at Antonio. It was like he was waiting for him to ask the question. “I started a business of some sort,” he smirked._

_Antonio looked at him sceptically. Adrian was as much a kid as he was. “What sort of business?”_

_“Oh, you’ll see.” Adrian put an arm around Antonio’s shoulders. “Hey, you make good money as a sailor, right?”_

_“I get by,” replied Antonio, squirming uncomfortably under Adrian’s touch._

_“Good! Because I’ve been seeing this girl recently and she has a really cute friend that wants to meet a nice guy. What a coincidence that I stumbled onto you today! So what do you think,” he asked, as they walked up to a park. He pointed down the path where two girls about their age were sitting on a bench. “Do you want to go on a date, today?”_

_Antonio looked over at the two girls. They were both pretty. He hardly got to hang out with people his own age, so the decision wasn’t hard to make. “Sure, she seems nice,” he said._

_He let Adrian lead him towards the two young girls. He felt so nervous about meeting a girl, that he didn’t stop to think what Adrian’s smirk really meant. He couldn’t help but think he’d seen that smirk before._


	17. Misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another short chapter because why not.

_In the last few months while they were docked in Spain, not a day went by where Antonio didn’t see the girl Adrian introduced him to._

_“What do you think of Marisa,” Adrian asked him as they both looked out at the wide sea from the pier._

_“What do I think? Adrian, she’s perfect!” Antonio felt elated just thinking about her._

_“Yes, it’s too bad the two of you can’t be together anymore,” he remarked._

_Antonio’s jaw dropped. “Why would you say something like that,” he asked, hurt by his friend’s bluntness._

_“Are you forgetting you have a job,” stated Adrian, growing increasingly frustrated. “You said the ship was going to take a few months to repair. It’s been a few months, so when are you leaving?”_

_Antonio stood dumbfounded. He had completely forgotten that he was leaving in a few days. He turned to face the sea and tried to let it sink in: he only had a few more days left to be with Marisa._

_“I need to see her one last time,” he exclaimed and ran, leaving Adrian standing alone at the pier, shaking his head as he watched Antonio go._

_Antonio ran for the girls home where Marisa lived with other orphaned girls. They were supposed to meet at the park that afternoon, but there was no reason he couldn’t meet her at the gate and maximize their time together. Just on time as always, the bell rang and the girls started spilling out of the nun-run orphanage. Marisa saw him standing at the gate and her bright smile warmed his heart as she ran towards the gate to greet him._

_She collided into Antonio and he wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug, embracing the citrus smell in her curly brown hair. They made their way to the park, holding hands and giggling at anything. He tried to wait until the very last possible moment to break the news to her; he didn’t want to let her go and he didn’t want to ruin this last moment with her._

_Hours passed before they exhausted their conversation topics. Antonio didn’t mind; lying in the grass by her side was more than enough for him and he was going to miss these moments dearly._

_The sun was getting low in the sky. He was running out of time._

_“Marisa,” he said nervously. “I need to tell you something.”_

_Marisa sat up to look at him more clearly. She twirled a curl around her finger, also nervous now, and she waited with her big brown eyes for him to continue._

_“My ship leaves in a few days. It’ll be a really long time until we can see each other again.”_

_Marisa looked at him tearfully now. “What? You’re leaving?” A look full of sorrow and fear clouded his features. “Adrian was right…,” she lamented._

_“Wait, Marisa—”_

_“Please don’t go,” she begged._

_“I have to go,” he reasoned. “If I go, then I can make enough money so I can come back to you and we can get married… If you want to,” he added nervously._

_Marisa looked stunned for a moment, but then her face brightened into a great big smile. “You would marry me?” she asked excitedly._

_“All I ask is that you wait for me,” he answered, “and I’ll come back for you.”_

_“Yes,” she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck and landing on top of him. “I’ll wait as long as it takes,” she promised._

_She cupped his face into her soft hands and laid her lips on his. She kissed him softly until she heard the bell from the orphanage sounding and realized she was out of time. She broke their embrace, and gazed into his eyes. “I love you, Antonio,” she cried, bursting with joy, before running home to her sisters._

_Antonio was left lying on his back in the grass. He was gushing with happiness, knowing he could always come home to Marisa. The imprint of this first kiss still burned his lips when the ship left the shipyard two days later._

 

* * *

After his talk with Enzo and Alistair, Antonio wandered the city, trying to gather enough courage to face Lovino again. Somehow, he couldn’t bear the thought of not being enough for him. A part of him blamed himself, thinking he’d pushed Lovino away.

Consumed by these thoughts, the sky turned dark before Antonio realized the sun was even setting. With twilight as his only source of light, he looked around and felt a pang in his chest when he recognized the park he’d walked into. Out of habit more than anything, he looked over at the bench where he met his first love.

There was a young woman with a swollen belly sitting at the bench he often shared with Marisa. She was sitting alone and the closer Antonio got, the more lonely she appeared. As he walked past her, he heard her quiet sobs.

“Are you alright,” he asked as he stopped mid-stride.

The woman looked up at his intrusion and gasped when she saw him.

“Antonio!” she cried before jumping up with her arms around his neck, clinging for dear life and seemingly determined not to let go.

Antonio let her. Once he was able to shake his startled senses, he recognized the voice and the woman it belonged to. “My God, Marisa…,” he said in a daze.

In the dark, Antonio couldn’t see how exhausted she looked. He hardly would have recognized her if he could. Her voice was all he needed.

She cried out his name some more, and all Antonio could do was rub her back, trying to comfort her and quiet her sobs. He was careful with her pregnant belly.

“Marisa, why are you crying?”

She took deep breaths, trying to stop her crying long enough to explain. “I hate that man!” she shouted. “I hate my husband.” She was hysterical and Antonio didn’t know what to do to help, but she kept crying into his chest. “I should have never married him, I should have waited for you, he beats me, he beats my children, I want to leave him, _but I can’t—_ ”

Antonio tried to soothe her as best he could. His heart ached for her, but there was nothing he could do to help her. “Please take me with you,” she begged him.

Antonio came back from his daze. “What? No I can’t.”

“But I can’t stay here. He’ll kill me some day, I know it.”

“I’m sorry, Mari—”

“You’re a sailor, right? You can take us far away from here, from him.”

Antonio cringed at the old lie. “It’s not that simple.”

She interrupted him with a tear-stained kiss. Antonio broke apart from her, and tried to hold her at arm’s length. “Marisa, please.”

“What the hell?!”

Antonio knew that voice better than any other. He looked up to find a man standing not far.

“Is this your idea of payback?!” shouted Lovino.

“Wait, Lovi, it’s not like that!”

“Oh really? _Say it again, shit-head!_ I know what I saw!”

Antonio tried to break apart from Marisa, but she clung to his arm possessively. “No, Lovi, let me explain—”

“You mean like how you let _me explain this morning?_ Fuck you!”

Lovino spun back and stormed back off the way he came. He could hear Antonio crying out for him, but the ringing in his ears blocked it out. He was blinded with rage and pain and it was a small miracle he made it back to the ship. When he went down the decks, he encountered several crew members that tried to talk to him and calm him down, but he only heard them seemingly from a distance. He only stopped running when he got to the supply deck. He listened to the sound of the crashing waves below, so much like at home, and tried to push the events of the day very far from his mind. He tried to nurse his hurt with memories of a home he stupidly left behind.

 

* * *

_The nameless whore lead Lovino to a large room curtained off for privacy, where a large canopy bed sat in the middle, waiting for him. A rosy smelling incense assaulted his drunken brain as he looked about the room and admired the richly decorated bedding where sins took place. It occurred to Lovino that it seemed strange that a beautiful woman like her didn’t already have a client. Lovino tossed his coin pouch on a nearby table and noticed her eyes roaming to the sound of his clinking coins with a lopsided smile, and he knew that’s all she wanted. She took her time undressing in front of him, but it did nothing to arouse him. His head was still reeling from the incense and wine, and his stomach threatened to overturn. At least his chest didn’t hurt anymore._

_He orders her to start sucking him off. This is supposed to be about him. She untied his slacks and took his limp cock into her mouth. The difference between her trained tongue and Antonio’s hungry one is stark and Lovino finds himself enjoying it, but not as much as he would like to. Back home, he would have loved this, but something is holding him back now. Why did he compare her to Antonio?_

_His chest started to hurt again. He felt sick. She’s rubbing at his thighs, trying to stimulate him, but he’s only half as hard as he could be. He stumbles and sits on the bed to breathe, but she mistakes this as an invitation, and crawls on top of him. She kneels over him and dances seductively, curving her mostly naked body that Lovino should have found arousing, but he only felt sick._

_He can’t do it anymore. He firmly gripped her waist, and tossed her aside. Free from her, he stumbles back up. He tossed a few coins towards the bed, not wanting to cheat her, and stalked out of this filth-ridden whorehouse he stupidly let himself be dragged into. He stumbled around the building and the sickness in his gut spilled out, leaving him feeling empty both physically and emotionally. He leaned against the wall to take deep breaths and breathe the fresh night air before he could find his way back to the tavern where he was supposed to be sleeping, still fighting the alcohol off his mind._

_Hours later, Lovino was exhausted by the time he crept into the room they shared. Antonio was still soundly sleeping as Lovino took his shirt off and snuck into the bed beside him. He tried not to wake him, not wanting to explain why he felt sick all over. He turned over, nursing his aching mind, and fell asleep._


	18. Resolutions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter... I thought it was best if this scene stood on its own :)

In that moment, caught between his first love and his current love, Antonio couldn’t possibly see any clearer: she was his past and he was his future. Antonio desperately tried to untangle himself from the hysterical woman so he could run after Lovino, but she wouldn’t let him go. She held on to the belief that Antonio was her saving grace, and it didn’t matter how many times he said, “no, Marisa”; she refused to let him go. Eventually, he sat her down on the bench beside them and told her the truth about how he felt at that moment.

“I don’t love you anymore, Marisa,” he said sternly. “All I asked was for you to wait for me. That’s it, and you couldn’t even do that. That man right there is who I love now, and damn it, if you prevent me from running after him, I will hate you.”

He paused when she became quiet. He waited a moment for her protests, but none came. She hung her head in what he assumed to be guilt and he took this opportunity to run the other way, towards where Lovino ran.

It was now dark out and Antonio tried to get to the coast as quickly as he could without stumbling in his blindness. He eventually got used to the darkness and quickened his pace. He found the tavern where he rented a room, hoping maybe Lovino snuck in there to be alone. He ran the stairs two at a time and crashed through the door, but the room was empty. There was nothing to indicate they had even been there the night before.

In that split second of panic, he considered searching the city top to bottom, no matter how unrealistic. Then he reasoned that if all their stuff was gone, then Lovino took it and had already left for someplace else—maybe another tavern, or something more familiar to him, like the ship.

The ship. That’s where he should search next. He ran his way back out of the tavern, not even bothering to close the room door behind him and ran for the coast towards the shipyard. The huge building, big enough to house a man-o-war, loomed over Antonio. The shadows cast by the moonlight seemed to crush him with his own guilt as he strode towards the door on the side of the building leading inside where the _Madreperla_ had been docked and lifted, and where most of their crew chose to sleep during the repairs.

The workers were gone for the day, so the lanterns were extinguished. Antonio had to make his way to the plank very carefully so he wouldn’t trip and fall in the ocean water under the ship, because he would definitely get caught under and drown. Once aboard, he wouldn’t need to be careful to get around—he knew the ship’s interiors so intimately. All the while, as he made his way, not knowing if Lovino really would be there or not, Antonio didn’t know what he would say. He tried not to think about it, because the thought of losing Lovino over something like this, something they could manage, was terrible. He couldn’t walk in there with a broken heart before he even got the chance to talk to him.

Having crossed the plank, he worked his way down the ladder below deck to the gallery, and lower still, where the living quarters were. This level of the ship was brightly lit, since most of the crew was still awake and lively. When they saw Antonio come down, they all stopped and hushed, and looked at him in bewilderment.

“What,” asked Antonio, not knowing what their looks were for. Many crew members shook their heads, and some shot a careful glance at each other. Their shiftiness made Antonio all the more nervous because it confirmed to him that Lovino was here and they must have all realized something was wrong when they saw him.

“He’s downstairs,” informed Sadık, who was sitting alone near the ladder leading down. Antonio simply nodded before grabbing a lantern off the wall and heading down as well.

He made his way down carefully, so he wouldn’t slip. He distantly heard light snores as he came down to the supply deck. Once his feet touched the solid floorboards, he let out a deep breath, trying to calm himself before the storm and steady his nerves. He set the lantern down on a box and let it sit there with its candle dwindling as he looked over to the still form laying in their untouched nest of linens, his curl sticking out betraying his identity. He hated the thought of waking Lovino up, but the thought of letting their bad feelings simmer felt worse. He quietly removed his sword and flintlock, setting them aside before he crept up to Lovino. He knelt down behind him, covering him in his shadow that was cast by the light and gently nudged him, partially hoping his sleep was too sound to be woken by it.

Lovino groaned as he was nudged awake and he was annoyed to be woken at all. “Go away,” he grumbled, pulling the sheets over his head to keep the light away from his eyes.

Antonio held his breath before nudging him again, gently squeezing Lovino’s shoulder to show that it was him and not anyone else. Lovino’s body seemed to crumble under the touch when he realized it was Antonio kneeling behind him. He would have told him to go away again, but his voice choked, making it hard for him to speak.

“You’re right,” whispered Antonio, letting out his breath and realizing Lovino wasn’t about to talk first. “I should have listened to you this morning. I should have let you explain.” He leaned down, rubbing up Lovino’s arm, hoping it might convey to Lovino that he wanted to talk about it now. “I’m sorry I walked out on you,” he added. “But I’ll listen now. I might not have listened before. Please talk to me,” he begged when the other still remained motionless under the covers.

“No,” choked Lovino. Antonio sighed with disappointment and dread, but then Lovino leaned up on his elbows and spun on him. “You first,” he barked.

“What?”

“You wouldn’t listen to me this morning, you selfish bastard, so you can to explain what the _fuck_ that was tonight before you can get closure from me,” said Lovino sitting up and leaning against the post, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders and blocking Antonio out. He pretended to rub sleep from his eyes, but he was trying to wipe away tears that were welling up before they could drop.

Antonio leaned back against the box nearest him facing Lovino and frowned. “Her name is Marisa. I met her when I was 14 and at the time, I thought I loved her.” Antonio went on to explain how he met Marisa, the time they spent together, and the promise they made before he went back to piracy. “For the next 2 years out at sea, I thought I was coming home to marry an amazing woman that loved me unconditionally. When I came back and found her again, she wouldn’t look me in the eye and when I asked her why, she told me the truth.” He paused as he ran a shaky hand through his hair and Lovino waited patiently for him to continue. “She admitted to me that when we met, she was a prostitute and her employer wanted her to make me a client. But when I didn’t try to sleep with her and actually respected her, she decided she liked me and didn’t want me to be one of her client. Her employer was someone I thought I could call a friend. His name was Adrian.” Hearing the name, Lovino froze, but Antonio didn’t notice and continued his explanation. “She hated her job, so when Adrian found out that she was serious about waiting for me so she could stop working for him, he promised her he would marry her. She wouldn’t have to work as a prostitute and she would live comfortably as his wife. She didn’t wait for me.”

Then Antonio finally looked up at Lovino to see if he was still paying attention. “So when I saw you kiss her at the park?” asked Lovino sceptically.

“I found her by chance when I was trying to clear my head from our fight and saw her crying on the bench. I didn’t know it was her until I asked if she was alright. She recognized me and begged me to give her another chance. I didn’t. Then she surprised me when she kissed me, and that’s when you showed up.”

Antonio avoided Lovino’s eyes. It felt ridiculous putting it out there, how stupid he was as a teenager, but he hoped Lovino would understand and not be angry at him anymore.

“So you were just being nice to her?” asked Lovino, the shaking in his voice having finally gone.

“Yes. I swear, Lovino. After you ran off, I tried to run after you, but she held me back and I told her that I never loved her as much as I loved y--...  as much as I thought I loved her then,” he half-confessed. He looked up tentatively to see Lovino’s reaction and found he looked more sad than angry. He took this as a good sign.

He lifted himself off the box and came closer to Lovino. Sitting cross-legged, he opened his arms to invite Lovino into his lap. The other gingerly got up and took his place against Antonio’s chest.

“Now will you tell me what happened last night?” asked Antonio as he wrapped his arms around Lovino, still afraid to hear the answer, but determined to give him his turn as well.

“I didn’t fuck the whore,” he said flatly.

Antonio looked down at the man sitting in his lap with his head rested against his chest and raised a brow. “Then why…?”

“I went to a bar, got drunk, got picked up by a dude that took me to a brothel, I was led by the hand by one of his prostitutes, got sick, and left.” He looked up at Antonio’s confused expression. “That’s it.”

Now Antonio just felt stupid. “I _really_ should have listened to you this morning.”

“No shit,” grumbled Lovino. “Cute story, you got there, though. Up until you discovered she was a whore. Funny how you came so much closer to fucking one in your part of the fight than mine,” he smirked.

“Shut up, I never slept with her,” said Antonio as he leaned down to kiss Lovino. He was thankful that he was just overreacting, but he felt bad for overreacting at all.

“So you don’t have feelings for her anymore?” asked Lovino, still slightly sceptical.

“She’s Adrian’s problem now,” said Antonio.

“Yeah,” said Lovino absently. “Adrian’s problem.” He wondered if the Adrian he met and that dragged him to the brothel was the same Adrian that married Marisa.

“Are we going back to the tavern so we can sleep well tonight?” asked Antonio.

“No, I’m too tired to move,” replied Lovino. “You’ll just have to sit like this all night,” he added sleepily.

Antonio kissed the crown of his head. “It’s the least I can do.” At some point in the night, they both fell sideways, and slept surprisingly well, tangled together in the blankets.


	19. Loves Won, Loves Lost

The next day was a productive one. Having put their fight behind them, they spent the day stalking finely dressed individuals in the streets, so that Lovino could pickpocket them and Antonio stood back to watch and guard him in case he ran into any trouble like last time. Lovino had to admit he felt much safer with Antonio hanging back and protecting him while he went about the busy streets unarmed and with dextrous fingers. By the end of the day, he was exhausted and had grown quite a collection of valuables he could sell.

He looked forward to the end of the day where he could be back in Antonio’s arms where he felt safest. He was relieved to see that they were able to move past that bump of mistrust they felt for each other, although he still felt weary about walking into either Adrian and Marisa in the streets.

They finally made it back to the tavern they initially rented just as the sun was setting over the sea. They had a quick bite to eat and a drink which they could now pay for before heading up to the same room they shared before. Lovino thought to himself he wouldn’t hold back on Antonio this time. He’d made up his mind since then, now that he felt reassured about Antonio’s own feelings for him, even if neither of them would admit it yet.

Lovino had set his bag of treasures down on the dresser by the wall as Antonio crept in behind him and laid his hands on Lovino’s hips, nuzzling his neck and nibbling his ear lobe.

“You were very good today,” he whispered lovingly.

Lovino couldn’t help the small blush that crept up at the compliment. As an only response, he swivelled in Antonio’s arms and rested his own on the other’s shoulders, pulling him into a kiss, not caring about any sort of boundaries anymore. Today was a long day and he was tired, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get any sort of reward for it. Lovino cast a weary glance to the bedside tables and found that the small ceramic bottle still stood there, untouched. It made him both nervous and curious, but more than anything, he was excited.

Lovino felt bad for turning him down last time, so in hopes to make it up to him, he tried to make it as obvious as possible that tonight would be the night. He started by removing Antonio’s shirt for him, and pushing him down on the bed before removing his own. The night air felt cool against their skin with the small lantern on the bedside table as their only source of light. The warm glow only served to accentuate their soft curves and tanned skin.

Antonio let himself fall back, and watched as Lovino crawled forward into his lap. Lovino leaned in to kiss him as he ran a graceful hand down to tease Antonio through the fabric of his pants, testing the waters a little more—whatever it took to make it happen tonight before there were no more nights to make it happen.

Antonio responded to his touch an almost hungry vigour, rubbing at his back, holding the back of his neck, bringing him in closer, deeper, leaning into him, before eventually rolling Lovino onto his back as he laid on top. Antonio rubbed Lovino’s erection through the fabric of his pants, half-expecting him to stop him at any moment, but his protests never came. In fact, Lovino reacted by shrugging out of his pants and kicking them to the floor, leaving himself naked under Antonio.

Lovino moaned against Antonio’s lips and said, “Toño, please.”

“Yes?” asked the other, already feeling out of breath.

“Make it worth it,” mewed Lovino, pulling Antonio’s pants down, freeing his hardened cock to the brisk air.

Antonio smiled and said, “I wouldn’t know any other way,” as he nuzzled into Lovino’s neck and kicked his own pants to the floor in turn.

Now both naked, Antonio pulled the covers over them, trying to keep the heat in. He positioned himself between Lovino’s legs, and Lovino was hardly going to stop his kisses and roaming hands as Antonio reached out for the small bottle of olive oil on his nightstand.

“The tavern-keeper is going to hate us for this,” he stated smiling.

“Fuck him,” retorted Lovino, before gasping at the cool sensation the oil left on his skin, before Antonio stroked him, warming his hardened member. He had to admit the oil made everything smoother and more pleasurable. He could hardly wait to find out what Antonio had in store.

He was panting and moaning now, as Antonio ran a slick hand down to Lovino’s hole and started to finger him. He tried to bite back his moans and grabbed a handful of Antonio’s hair, not wanting to let go while the other touched him in ways he never knew could feel so good as he nibbled playfully at his neck.

“Fuck,” whimpered Lovino under his breath as his legs spread a little wider and Antonio inserted another finger, widening him. “Fuck me, already,” he ordered.

Antonio pulled apart just enough to find Lovino’s lips for his own as he maneuvered himself in Lovino’s hole, thrusting slowly so he wouldn’t hurt him and giving him a chance to adjust to the new thickness. Holding Lovino’s cock in one hand, Antonio deepened his thrust, stroking him with every thrust he made. Lovino couldn’t deny the slickness of the oil made everything so much smoother, easier, and generally better. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his volume down as Antonio kept hitting that sweet spot over and over again. Lovino couldn’t seem to stop cursing under his breath and crying Antonio’s name with every new thrust. His pace grew faster with every moan, and Antonio started thrusting harder as Lovino grabbed his ass and bit his shoulder, trying to stifle his moans. Before long, Lovino reached his climax, spilling over his stomach as he felt Antonio pulsing inside him.

Both laying there, panting for breath and shy smirks on their faces, Lovino grabbed Antonio’s face in his hands and pulled him down for a sweet kiss, the sweetest he’d ever given. In that moment, he was so full of love and devotion for Antonio, the rest of the world ceased to matter.

Antonio pulled apart and cleaned up before he could rest by Lovino’s side. Both were now more exhausted than before and knew a fitful sleep was waiting for them. Neither stopped smiling through the night as they held each other and slept the dark hours away.

 

* * *

For the past week, Armado had been roaming the city in search of anyone willing to buy a slave, but so far, he had had no luck. Most people either had enough slaves already, couldn’t afford one, or were unwilling to take the risk of bringing a healthy and sturdy Turk into their homes. Armado was just about to give up his search and returned to the shipyard for the first time since they docked. The ship builder, the man that ran the repair crew, was eager to catch him as soon as he saw Armado and handed a note with money to him.

Armado fingered the note where it sat in his breast pocket as he made his way towards the nicer bars of the city. Evidently, the man he was meeting had a good sense of taste. He found the bar mentioned in the note and slipped in as casually as he could. He knew his appearance would intimidate most of the patrons in the establishment, but he hardly gave a fuck at the moment. He had a bone to pick with a rather bold Italian that he had set his sights on. Armado kept a steady stride as he walked towards the table where the man in question sat, and without breaking eye contact with him, he pulled a chair out and sat down. He give the man his note and money back.

Roma simply stared at him with his jaw set. He could have sworn he’d made his instructions to the ship builder rather clear, and yet instead of finding his grandson, he finds a middle-aged black man with a scowl that might actually rival Lovino’s.

“What do you want,” asked Armado calmly, not bothering to mask his sneer.

“I assume you read my note. I think it’s obvious what I want,” retorted Roma.

“You think I can fucking read Italian?”

“I just want my grandson back before you have him killed,” snarled Roma.

Armado paused for a moment as he flagged a barmaid down and ordered a bottle of rum. “Why the hell are you here anyway?”

“Tell me where—”

“I’ll tell you want to you want to hear after you answer my questions, bastard,” snapped Armado. “Some good men died in Greece because of your _stupid_ mistake. I’m going to get answers before you can get any from me.” Armado sat back as the barmaid arrived. He tossed back the bottle, taking a long swig as he waited for Roma to speak.

Roma was reluctant to talk, but he could quickly see he wasn’t going to get anywhere with this burly man unless he spoke first. “I went to Greece expecting to find my grandson safe with a family friend, but discovered the Turks failed to capture your crew. My friend discovered the pirates that _almost_ attacked the coast of Greece were on a Spanish frigate and masquerading as a Spanish war vessel, so it only seemed logical to look here next.”

Armado waited for him to continue, but when he didn’t appear to want to say more, he sighed heavily and said, “and how did you find my ship yard?”

“Another friend of mine in Spain told me that most pirate ships seemed to dock on that particular coast, so from there it was just a matter of checking them out one by one. I eventually found yours and recognized the damage being repaired was similar to the damage reported in Greece.” Roma paused for a moment, gripping the edge of the table tightly. “My grandson could’ve been killed on that _reckless trip back_.”

To this, Armado simply waved his arms about as though to say ‘what of it?’ “But he didn’t die. If you were home right now like you’re supposed to, you’d know that by now.”

At such news, Roma’s face brightened. “He’s safe?”

“Antonio is taking care that he is,” he stated casually. Armado then pushed his chair back to stand up. “What you’ll be less happy to find out is that he’s decided to stay with us.”

“Wait, what?!” Roma stood up suddenly, kicking his chair back and letting it fall to the ground in a loud clang that quietened the room. “Why? _Why the fuck_ would Lovi want to stay with you spineless rogues?”

Armado had spun back, letting his the rum in his bottle slosh to the floor as he carelessly swung his arms about and shrugged. “I guess it’s love,” smirked Armado before he continued out the door.

But Roma wasn’t done yet. He ran after Armado and followed him out the door. “What the hell are you talking about? You promised me answers!”

“And I’ve given them to you,” stated Armado without looking back. “Lovino has chosen to continue sailing with us because he’s found love. Everyone knows it.” Then he paused and actually looked at Roma carefully. “Well, perhaps everyone but you,” he added thoughtfully. “I wonder why that is…”

Roma stood in stunned silence, and Armado took this as an opportunity to slip away from him. Roma let him escape as he tried to contemplate what this meant. He couldn’t think of any reason why Lovino would want to hide something so important from him.

“No, it can’t be,” he muttered to himself, as he started to move forward aimlessly.

Roma was astounded that Lovino could find a love so big and so soon that would overshadow his love of for his home and his family. He decided it was time he find his estranged grandson, if only to discover what Armado’s words meant, even if Lovino wouldn’t follow him home.


	20. Reunited

In the week that past, Lovino did his best to sell the junk the crew had accumulated over the years. Antonio managed to find a black market dealer that followed Lovino’s criteria, and this man was the one Lovino dealt with to make money off all the crap in the ship and the trinkets he pick-pocketed.

The money collected from the ship was always put away in a coffer in Armado’s quarters, which Alistair made a point of sitting on, so none of the shipbuilders could touch it. This meant that Lovino and Antonio regularly returned to the shipyard, so Sadık’s sudden absence didn’t go unnoticed for them. Lovino was glad to see him gone, but Antonio seemed to be bothered by it. When Lovino tried to ask him why he was being gloomy, Antonio always responded by shrugging and smiling, saying nothing was wrong. Lovino soon gave up on getting any answers from him and didn’t press the issue. Sadık being gone was one less thing to worry about regardless. The only problem was that anyone had yet to see Armado show up at the ship again, so most doubted Sadık was sold away, and instead suspected he escaped somehow.

Lovino was currently walking through a busy market, one of the more bustling ones a decent distance from the coast. He had gotten used to blending in with the Spanish crowd and Antonio always kept a good, loyal distance, watching him in case danger arose. Lovino doubted anything bad would happen again, but he still appreciated the care Antonio dedicated to him. It kept his otherwise sour mood up and made the job he was doing seem light-hearted and fulfilling. Admittedly, part of the reason for Lovino’s good mood was that he managed to snag a perfume bottle, and those always cost a small fortune.

Content that his day’s work was done, Lovino continued to walk through the market, this time to enjoy the bustle and listen to the constant Spanish chatter. It used to grate his ears hearing it, but now he found the language quaint and charming in its own right. Lovino hardly noticed that he’d been smiling until he heard something out of place. Something that didn’t belong there in a Spanish city.

Lovino spun around, trying to figure out where the Italian drivel was coming from. His frown was met with Feliciano’s smiles as his little brother appeared among the crowd, weaving his way through people to join Lovino at the centre of the square.

In that moment, seeing Feliciano for the first time in weeks, Lovino felt both exhilarated and terrified. Of course he was happy to see his brother again, but this wasn’t Italy and this was definitely not the time or place for a reunion. He watched as his brother made his way to join him, and Lovino cast weary glances around, trying to find Antonio and making sure he wouldn’t assume the wrong thing, but he didn’t see him. Damn bastard was too good at blending in. Before long, Feliciano met with Lovino and started babbling excitedly in Italian, but Lovino shushed him, and dragged him into a little alley off the marketplace for privacy.

“Brother, what’s wrong,” asked Feliciano, worried about the expression his brother now wore. He thought Lovino would be happy to see him after being away from home for so long.

Lovino briefly wanted to smack the idiot. “Use your head, Feli,” he almost shouted in Spanish. “We’re in Spain here. You can’t go around shouting Italian nonsense; you’ll attract attention.”

“That was the point, idiot,” shot back Feliciano, unfazed by Lovino’s outburst. “I was trying to get your attention.”

Lovino rolled his eyes, the fear he felt earlier was gradually being replaced with exhilaration, and without hesitation, took a step towards his brother and hugged him tighter than he had for many years. He buried his head in the crook of his brother’s shoulder as Feliciano returned the hug just as tightly. Both smiling, they hesitated to break apart.

“Oh, Feli, I missed you so fucking much.”

“I missed you too, Lovi,” cried Feliciano as he disentangled from his brother to finally get a good look. “You look like you’re eating right.”

“Well, I can afford it, so why not.” He didn’t care to add that too much wine was involved in his diet recently too.

The two walked down the alley, trying to keep their voices low and not disturb the families behind the many doors along the way. They eventually found a bench they could sit on as they caught up on news of each other since Lovino left several weeks ago, both switching between Spanish and Italian now that Lovino was used to speaking more Spanish and Feliciano was still used to speaking entirely in Italian.

All the while, Lovino’s earlier conflicts about returning home came back at a nauseating pace. If his brother was here, it surely meant Grandpa Roma was around as well and if Grandpa Roma was here, going home would be easy. All he would have to do is find the old man, apologize, beg for forgiveness, and they could all return home as a family again.

The only thing holding Lovino back now was Antonio. He realized he’d abandoned him in the market just now, but talking to Feliciano was just too important at the moment. Surely Antonio would understand.

“You mentioned you made a friend named Antonio? Tell me more about him,” asked Feliciano gleefully, almost as though he could sense Lovino’s thought process.

Lovino froze. A part of him hoped to avoid that conversation entirely. “You didn’t get my letter?”

“I got your letter explaining why you ran away.”

“But you didn’t get the letter I sent last week.”

“No, I we were traveling for Spain. why,” asked Feliciano.

Lovino sighed. He didn’t like the prospect of going through this awkwardly in person. “Antonio has turned out to be more than just a friend,” he said tentatively, trying to gauge what Feliciano’s reaction might be to such news.

“You mean like he’s a close friend?”

Lovino chuckled, more out of stress than humour. “No, I mean…” He looked around to see if there was anyone around to listen. “I mean like a lover,” he continued lowly so only Feliciano could hear him.

Lovino avoided looking at him, still unsure how his younger brother might react to such a confession. The minutes seemed to drag on forever before Feliciano finally muttered, “so it’s true?”

This stunned Lovino. Was what true? “What are you talking about?”

“Grandpa spoke to your captain last night. He said something about you finding love and that’s why you weren’t coming home. So it’s true?”

Lovino tried to process this information. His mind stuck on the fact that Grandpa Roma spoke to Armado last night and that his grandfather now knew about Antonio. Based on the look Feliciano was giving him, they probably thought he didn’t love them as much as he loved Antonio.

“N—No, it’s not true!” stammered Lovino. “What I have with Antonio now is not what it was like at the beginning.”

“But is it true now?”

Feliciano reached out to take Lovino’s hand. This surprised Lovino and he looked over at Feliciano to find him looking at him with his doe-like brown eyes. His eyes seemed sad, as they’ve always been since their mother died, but his smile was genuine and sweet.

“I don’t know,” choked Lovino. “Is it too soon to tell? I don’t know…”

Feliciano gave a lighthearted laugh in response. “Why are you asking me? I don’t know either.” He leaned back against the wall, and switched to the more familiar Italian. “I’m sure you’ll figure it out, Lovi. And when you do, I’ll be there for you,” he said.

That’s all Lovino wanted to hear. Taking his brother’s hand, he pulled him into his arms, resting his chin on his shoulder. His throat was too choked up to speak, so this would have to do. Feliciano responded by patting Lovino’s back and head. Lovino let his eyes close in order to enjoy the familiar warmth and smell of home.

“We should go see Grandpa,” suggested Feliciano. “He really misses you and wants to see you again.”

Lovino chose then to break apart from Feliciano. “Why did Grandpa meet Armado yesterday?”

Feliciano was taken aback by the sudden question. “He left a note for you hoping you would meet him in town, but Armado got the note first and met him in your place,” he answered.

Lovino’s expression turned serious and frowning. “Then I need to have a word with Armado.”

“Won’t you come see Grandpa first?” pleaded Feliciano.

“I’m not ready to talk to him yet,” said Lovino, casting his eyes back down. “But Armado shouldn’t have gone behind my back the way he did.”

“Well, uh. Lovi,” started Feliciano, trying to get Lovino to stay seated. “Maybe not? Armado seems kind of scary…”

“Pfft. He couldn’t get rid of a Turk when it mattered, I doubt he’ll do anything to either of us,” snarled Lovino and started walking off the way he came, running almost smack into Antonio, standing hidden a short distance. Lovino yelped when he saw him.

Antonio’s lips were set in a straight line, and as he eyed Feliciano, a brow quirked up. “Any particular reason why you snuck into an alley?” The ‘with him’ was implied.

“Toño, uhm. This is my younger brother, Feliciano.” Lovino cleared his throat. He felt like he was caught doing something he shouldn’t. Switching to Italian for his brother’s sake, Lovino added, “Feli, this is Antonio.”

Although Antonio’s expression brightened at the prospect of finally meeting Lovino’s brother, Feliciano’s expression remained uncertain and cautious, his eyes cast on Antonio’s weapons that he wore on his belt.

“Oh, Feliciano! It’s such a pleasure to finally meet you,” cried out Antonio, walking up to him to shake his hand and kiss his cheek. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“Oh,” said Feliciano, flustered. “I wish I could say the same… About hearing about you, I mean! Of course it’s a pleasure finally meeting you too,” he added awkwardly.

“So Lovi, you were saying you wanted to talk to Armado, yes?” asked Antonio as he turned back to Lovino. “We should probably start looking for him.”

Lovino paled realizing Antonio had probably been listening to the entire conversation, which unfortunately included talk of going home. Shaking his stunned thoughts, he took his brother’s hand and followed Antonio out of the alley. Feliciano, clearly sensing the same thing as Lovino, let himself be dragged along even though he would have much preferred finding Grandpa, instead of a sailor that frankly terrified him.

As they reached the market, Antonio suggested they try the shipyard first, which Feliciano was not okay with. Lovino didn’t feel comfortable bringing his brother there either, where all the pirates hung out, so instead they walked around the city aimlessly. Most of that time consisted of Antonio and Feliciano chatting and getting to know each other while Lovino awkwardly stood aside. He was constantly trying to figure out his brother’s emotions, and realized that although Feliciano was sceptical about Antonio at first, he was quickly growing to like him. When the realization of it fully hit, Lovino could have sighed with relief.

Their chatter didn’t end until they wandered down a street Feliciano recognized. Then he smiled and half-dragged Lovino to a tavern, Antonio following closely in tow, smirking as he watched the pair. He wondered how he ever missed the family resemblance and felt bad for letting himself get jealous earlier. Lovino tried to ask Feliciano where he was leading them, but Feliciano only smirked and said, “you’ll see.”

All three walked into the tavern, Lovino and Antonio looking around curiously as Feliciano’s sight narrowed on the corner where Roma now sat. Feliciano didn’t let himself be phased by the big and grungy man that sat with him, but Antonio and Lovino paled seeing them together. Lovino immediately dug his heels into the floorboards and tried to get his brother to stop. He could handle dealing with these men one at a time, but never together. Not with the sort of conversation about to take place.

But it was too late, because Roma caught sight of his grandsons standing together near the door, hand-in-hand, and his heart just about gave out with happiness. “Lovino!” he shouted gleefully, rising from his chair carelessly and running to greet his lost grandson, bringing him into a bear-like hug that could’ve crushed his bones. Antonio stood back, figuring out who the old Italian was on his own and without needing to be told.

Roma instantly began to coddle Lovino, telling him he needed to shower, and needed to eat more, or drink more. Lovino blushed and didn’t dare tell the old man to stop, no matter how embarrassed it made him—he was only glad to see his grandfather treated him the same as always.

Lovino could just make out Armado’s sadistic grin as he still sat at the table; a grin that made Feliciano’s skin crawl, and would make Lovino’s skin crawl too if he wasn’t already used to it.

“Oh, my boy, I’m just so happy to see you alive and well,” rambled Roma, still holding Lovino tightly.

“I missed you too, Grandpa,” admitted Lovino, trying to untangle himself from him. Sensing an opportunity to steer the conversation away from his relationship, Lovino whirled on Armado.

“What the hell were you thinking seeing my Grandpa behind my back?”

Armado sighed. “I selfishly wanted to meet the man that cost me a good raid.” Then his features softened in one of those rare moments of affections. “The lengths your grandfather goes through for you amaze me,” he added sullenly.

Roma ignored the praise as he noticed Antonio standing aside, watching them. “And who are you?” he asked.

“My name is Antonio. I’m a  friend of Lovino’s,” he answers modestly.

“Oh, you’re the friend Lovino wrote about,” acknowledged Roma.

Antonio hummed in affirmation. The conversation made Lovino uncomfortable, but hearing Antonio shrug off their relationship hurt more.

“No, wait, that’s not true,” stated Lovino. “Grandpa, can we talk somewhere?”

Roma was surprised by the request, but nonetheless, he lead him upstairs to the room he rented with Feliciano. Feliciano followed happily, but Lovino had to drag Antonio up with him, since the Spaniard seemed reluctant to be a part of this conversation. The four of them left Armado downstairs in the tavern as they secluded themselves in the small room.

“We have a lot to talk about, I’m sure,” started Roma.

“Yes, we do. Antonio lied to you for whatever fucking reason, because we’re not just friends, Grandpa. I know you desperately want me to come home with you and Feli, but I don’t want to.” Lovino tried to be firm, but it seemed impossible to be commanding with him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Lovi. You can’t live like a pirate for the rest of your life.”

“I’m not planning on being a pirate for the rest of my life!” shouted Lovino. It’s not that he wanted to shout. Everything was just happening so drastically.

“Then what are you doing? Please enlighten me,” continued Roma, getting increasingly frustrated about not understanding what his grandson was doing to himself.

Lovino grunted, and casting his eyes down, pointed at Antonio. “Him,” he stated blankly. “Wait,” he added blushing awkwardly. “I mean he’s the reason I’m doing this, _fuck!_ ”

The pressure in the room must’ve grown to be too much because Antonio burst out laughing. Lovino whirled on him angrily. “That’s not funny!”

“Oh, Lovi,” said Antonio, wiping away tears. “It’s never a dull moment with you,” he said lovingly.

Feliciano giggled seeing them, and Roma put the pieces together. A concerned frown crossed his face. “Lovi, are you sure?” he asked.

Lovino turned back to face his grandfather, still angry at Antonio, but embarrassed by his blunder. “No,” he said after a short pause. “No, I’m not sure. But I want to find out on my own.”

Roma sighed and sat down on the edge of one of the beds. “What do you want, Lovino?”

Lovino considered the question briefly. He knew what he wanted, but he wasn’t sure how well received the request would be yet. After a pause, Lovino said, “I want the option of coming back home when I’m ready.”

Roma was surprised. “Why wouldn’t you have the option? Of course you can always come back home,” he said. “You didn’t really think I would abandon you for any reason, did you?”

Lovino was ready to burst into tears. All the pressure he felt up until then seemed to burst out all at once, overwhelming him with emotion. Feliciano noticed, and went up to hold his brother in his arms. Roma stood up, and Lovino ran to him, hugging him tightly, letting himself cry into his grandfather’s chest. It made Roma’s heart ache seeing him so awash with relief. He absently started patting Lovino’s head in a comforting manner and hummed in his ear.

Once Lovino finally calmed down. Feliciano offered to take him down for a drink, claiming that he seriously needed one at that moment. Lovino nodded and followed his brother out, but Roma called for Antonio to stay behind a moment.

“What? Why,” asked Lovino, concerned.

“I just want to speak with him,” comforted Roma. “We won’t be long.”

Lovino reluctantly let himself be dragged down by Feliciano. His brother seemed to know something about this that he didn’t. Antonio felt his heart hammer, unsure what Roma would want to talk to him about.

Grandpa Roma waited for his two boys to be out of the room before turning on Antonio. “I’m not stupid, you know,” he stated. “I know what it means when he says you two ‘aren’t friends’.”

“I never thought you were stupid, Mr. Vargas,” replied Antonio calmly.

“Are you serious about Lovino?” he asked.

Antonio was taken aback by the question. “Of course I am.”

“So you’re ready to protect him at your own risk? Even if it costs you your life?”

“Yes,” he said frowning and without hesitating. He realized by now that Roma just wanted Lovino to be safe… just like him.

“Good. Then I have nothing else for you,” said Roma as he patted Antonio’s back. “You bring my boy home safe, and you will never have a hard time from me.”

“I understand,” said Antonio, suddenly feeling incompetent about his ability to protect Lovino. He had a feeling Roma was not the sort of man he would want to piss off.

Having gotten this conversation out of the way, both stalked out of the room to join the brothers in the tavern downstairs. Although the evening started awkwardly, the night ended on good terms as Lovino and Antonio went back to their own rooms and left Roma and Feliciano behind, both already missing Lovino as they watched him walk away.


	21. Crossways

Arthur’s ship was tossing in the waves of the Strait of Gibraltar as he waited for Francis to come back. He anchored the Man-O-War there, far away from the Spanish coast, not wanting to attract any attention from the Spanish monarchy while his companion hit land, looking for the criminal band. Arthur hated sitting there, waiting after the Frenchman, so he tried to content himself by stalking any frigate that passed through the Strait with his eyeglass, hoping one of them might be Armado’s ship and have an excuse to finally set sail again.

Frustrated at still finding nothing, Arthur put his eyeglass away again and stormed off to his cabin to open a bottle of scotch. He’d put it off long enough, but he was on the verge of giving up on Francis actually bothering to come back. _Bloody pirates should never be trusted_ , he thought to himself, pulling the stopper off the bottle.

“Tomorrow, I set sail, and I’m going to find my bastard brother,” he promised himself. Enough was enough. He couldn’t sit here, vulnerable, like an idiot, waiting on a _French pirate_. Such a ludicrous notion. He briefly wondered why he ever agreed to this in the first place, until he remembered the point of him standing back was out of caution more than uselessness. He grumbled to himself and reasoned that a week would be a more appropriate amount of time to wait before giving up on his companion. Giving Francis the benefit of the doubt had never proven wrong before.

Arthur’s men knew better than to bother him when he was in one of these moods, drinking and mumbling to himself, so they left him alone for the most part until Francis finally boarded the ship to disturb his peace.

As per usual, the Frenchman didn’t bother knocking on his companion’s door and walked in to find him already half-drunk on cheap spirits and raving half-mad.

“Pull yourself together, mon ami,” chastised Francis.

“It’s about fucking time you showed up! Do you have any idea how annoying it is waiting after you?” raved Arthur.

“Of course not. I’m a delight. Unlike you, you drunk peddler,” mocked Francis.

Arthur was about to argue about his pristine lineage and how he would never even need to be a peddler unlike his hunter-turned-pirate frog, before Francis cut him off with the meat of their encounter. “I found the city where Armado has docked. His ship has been repaired and is due to set sail in a few days.”

“Oh, finally! A timeline I can work with,” slurred Arthur.

“What do you mean? Aren’t you going to attack them at the harbour?” Francis sat in the wingback chair across from Arthur.

“Don’t be ridiculous. If I attack them at the harbour _now_ , there’s no guarantee I’ll catch them all. We need another plan.”

“So you want to ambush them at sea.”

“Correct!” Arthur took another swig of scotch.

“Will you be embarking on this alone, or am I expected to choreograph this entire ambush with you?”

“I’m not paying you for nothing,” complained Arthur.

“You don’t pay me at all,” smirked Francis.

“Is success not reward enough?”

“No, it’s the money I make off your commissions that put bread on the table.”

“What’s the use in getting your own? You already eat all of _my_ bread.”

“Oh, don’t start that with me again!” reproached Francis.

Arthur threw his arms up in mock surrender. “Fine. What do you want?”

“A house in the countryside.”

“Is the house I already have in Canterbury not good enough anymore?”

“It’s in the _English_ countryside. That’s no good. It’s stuffy and cold,” complained Francis.

Arthur sighed, now that he knew where this conversation was going. “Fine. Bordeaux?”

“Good choice,” replied Francis, with a broad smiling across his face.

Arthur sighed again, exasperated by his lover’s unquenchable taste in anything. “So how about this,” he said, setting his bottle down on the desk in front of him and kicking his feet up. “We wait until they set sail. We tail them. Once they reach the open sea, we ambush them on either side with our two ships.”

“And I assume we’re not sinking them, but capturing their ship and their crew? Which means no extreme gun power.”

“Correct,” replied Arthur, still slurring. “We ambush them, corner them between our two ships, we get close enough to force ourselves aboard and we capture them.”

“It sounds inelegant, but effective for the intended task.”

“Good,” said Arthur getting up and moving towards the bed. “And it’s bloody late now, no thanks to you. I’m going to bed,” he added, shrugging off his coat.

Francis continued to sit and served himself a glass of scotch as he watched Arthur. The poor Englishman was drunk and bound to pass out before he even hit the hay. By the time Francis finished his glass, scowling at its bitterness for the last time, Arthur was snoring soundly. Francis shrugged off his own coat and boots before finally joining Arthur, pulling the stubborn man to his chest as he slept undisturbed.

 

* * *

Today was the day.

After weeks of repair, the ship was finally ready to sail, and everyone in the crew anticipated their departure for the Bahamas. Lovino had done his best to accumulate money and treasures he could sell once there, their stocks were refilled, and the ship was much lighter now that they got rid of all the crap in the storeroom.

Armado had finally returned two days before their planned departure, after going around the city and gathering his pirates with the news. He didn’t seem bothered by his missing slave, so everyone assumed Sadık was sold and Armado didn’t bother telling anyone.

Lovino and Antonio took a small cabin along the living quarters to share. It just seemed more ecological this way, freeing up another cabin for other crew members. Lovino even had his own trunk, with his own spare clothing, razor, and shaving cream, so he wouldn’t bother Antonio for his anymore.

It was a nice, clear day for sailing. They were bound to get some good headway through the strait of Gibraltar after they get passed all the little fishing boats along the way. As their boat was pushed out of the shipyard and into the sea, Enzo made his way up to the crow’s nest as others got ready to open up the sails and rig them to steer in the right direction.

Armado and Antonio were not confident Lovino could rig the sails yet, so he was still restricted to cleaning up until Antonio went off duty so they could continue their sword training. Lovino was actually getting much better, and Antonio was proud of the improvements he made.

After a first long day of sailing, rigging, cleaning, and play-fighting for the first time in a long time, everyone was exhausted and Lovino was thankful to be able to retire to the cabin he shared with Antonio and sleep uncomfortably in his hammock. He felt a moment of satisfaction thinking that it was _his_ hammock and no one else’s. Under his hammock was _his_ trunk with _his_ stuff and no one was allowed to use them without his permission.

No one but Antonio, who slept in the hammock next to his, just close enough for them to hold hands as they slept.

*

Sometime in the night, Lovino was startled awake by movement and noise in the dark room.

“What are you doing,” he whispered aggressively to the black form standing out against the darkness.

“I’m replacing Enzo in the crow’s nest,” answered Antonio. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back in the morning to wake you up.”

Lovino tried unsuccessfully to push himself up on his elbows, but Antonio gently pushed him back down and laid a soft kiss to his brow and lips. Lovino took this opportunity to pull him back down for a longer, deeper kiss before eventually letting him go.

Antonio silently left the cabin for the main deck, leaving a lonely Lovino behind, unable to sleep anymore.

*

The next time Lovino woke up, light was just barely seeping through the walls. Anxious for morning and to be by Antonio’s side again, he clumsily fell to the floor and sluggishly dressed himself for work. Maybe they would let him rig the sails today. With mixed feelings of anticipation and dread, Lovino walked out of the cabin and into the main living quarters. Not feeling hungry yet, he made his way up to the gun gallery, and up again to the main deck where Antonio was supposed to be.

As soon as he reached the top of the narrow stairs, the pressure in the air seemed almost tangible. Every crew member on deck was on edge and appeared to be waiting for the worst as they sailed quietly in the dark foggy morning. The silence made Lovino’s skin crawl with the first surges of panic. This wasn’t normal. Something was wrong.

Everyone was so silent on deck, Lovino winced with every creak his steps made as he moved towards the prow where Armado and Alistair stood, trying to see through the thick fog. He stood between the two, hoping one of them would notice him and put his fears to rest.

Armado was the first to speak. “British Man-O-War hiding in the fog.” He wouldn’t say any more, almost as though he expected this to be enough for Lovino to understand. It wasn’t.

“Where’s Antonio,” he whispered in the same volume Armado used.

“Crow’s nest,” he answered with a tinge of annoyance.

Lovino looked up the main mast where the crow’s nest was supposed to be. He couldn’t see it from the deck through the fog. The earlier surge of panic he felt returned.

“Get a weapon ready,” whispered Alistair through gritted teeth. Lovino sensed he was angry, but he couldn’t understand why.

He walked away as quietly as he could as the two men continued to stare into the fog. Their behaviour was creepy and bordered on complete nonsense. He decided to stand near the main mast where Antonio would have to eventually come down. He was soon joined by Enzo, carrying two swords. He wordlessly handed one to Lovino. Lovino’s anxieties increased as held the hilt of the very real sword in his hands. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

“Shouldn’t someone be loading the cannons?” he asked Enzo quietly.

“No one wants to risk making noise. This fog is the only thing protecting us from the British right now,” he answered, his voice cracking in a barely noticeable manner.

Lovino had nothing to say to this, for fear of giving himself more reasons to be stressed. “Will Antonio eventually come down?” he asked.

Enzo shook his head. “Not until he can spot one of them.”

“One of them?!” Lovino fought hard to keep his voice low. “There’s more than one?”

“He noticed two so far. Unless it’s the same one circling us, but that’s not likely.”

Lovino looked into Enzo’s stoney face, and started to panic again. Everyone was so terrified and there was nothing they could do but wait. The fog would clear eventually though, and then they would have to fight for their lives with not one, but two ships.

A brief thought flashed through Lovino’s mind that he may never see his family again. Even worse, if they were attacked before Antonio came down from the crow’s nest, he wouldn’t ever seen him again either. Lovino clutched at his chest, trying to ease the heavy feeling in his heart. This was not the time to panic and it was not the time to think so morosely. This was the time for quick-thinking and patience.

They waited for a long time before Antonio finally came down with no news of enemy ships. This was not enough to ease Armado’s worries, knowing the British could be cunning bastards. The fog later began to clear before any semblance of a ship could be seen.

There was cannon fire port side. The ship rocked under their feet, knocking some men to the floor and others overboard to drown in the strong currents. Pirates started shouting and Lovino panicked, feeling disoriented by the suddenness as Antonio caught him before he could hurt himself.

As every man aboard focused their attention port side, loading cannons and staring into the fog, trying to find the ship again, a huge, bulking ship appeared starboard side, flanking the _Madreperla_ as red-coated men embarked aboard the ship. Lovino could just make out the sound of gunfire and shouting Englishmen as Antonio shoved him out of harm’s way, but to no avail.

The second ship began to flank their front port side, blocking the _Madreperla_ where he floated. The cannons wouldn’t be able to reach that ship. By the time the many British men boarded, their Man-O-War blocked their back, effectively leaving the smaller frigate trapped between two much larger ships she could never break through.

They were surrounded.

Lovino tried to stay close to Antonio without getting in his way as the Red Coats closed the gaps between them. The pirates had no where to go but down, and none even wanted to contemplate the option of sinking their ship. There were some still downstairs loading cannons to fire at the ship that shot them, but before they could, another shot ran through the ship as another cannon pierced her side.

Pirates fought Englishman in a losing battle as the British were herding them towards the centre of the ship from either side. Before long, any crew member left alive on the main deck circled the main mast with their backs to each other and Englishman brandishing muskets in their faces, threatening to shoot. A fellow pirate made the mistake of charging at one and was shot dead in the face, splattering his brains across the floorboards, silencing the others still wanting to preserve their lives at least a little longer.

Lovino stood behind Antonio as the Spaniard shielded him from the gun barrels. Lovino didn’t complain, knowing fully well that Antonio was far more experienced than he was and had much higher chances of surviving this than he. This gave Lovino the ability to look around and observe.

He could just make out Armado and Alistair, cornered off at the other mast, the one closest to the prow of the ship. He noticed the blond Red Coat that looked like he might be the captain scowling down at Alistair with his palms on his hips like he was chastising a child. Alistair seemed to recognize him and was pissed as they rambled to each other in English.

"You stupid pig, Arthur! Father always said you were up to no good!"

“I was up to no good?! You're the bloody fucking pirate here!"

"Pirate, privateer, same bloody difference.”

“I will skin you and deliver your head to your mother!”

“ _How dare you speak of my dead mother like that!?”_

“I’ll drink wine out of your skull!”

“ _I’ll drink rotgut out of yours so it could taste just like your soul, you slimy son of a bitch!”_

Their argument went on like this for quite sometime until a man with long blond hair and a light blue coat walked up to the Englishman Alistair named Arthur and laid a hand on his shoulder, whispering in his ear and silencing the argument. Alistair was still fuming, but he was listening to the conversation intently, snarling at Arthur. Lovino wondered what their relationship was, and made a mental note to ask Alistair about it when he got the chance… If he got the chance.

The two men turned to the rest of the crew standing at the mast, observing them, looking for trouble-makers.

“Listen, you stupid pieces of shit,” snarled Arthur. “We know the bloody lot of you are pirates, and every single one of you will atone for your crimes one way or another. If you behave, you’ll be brought to the Bahamas and hung as examples. It’s quite merciful. You might even enjoy it, knowing how sadistic you all are.” Then he paused to pace a little the way he came, with his arms behind his back, looking at them one by one. “If you don’t, you’ll meet a worse fate. Are we clear?”

He paused, obviously waiting for a reply and staring each of them down with an icy glare. Lovino avoided his eyes entirely, not wanting to speak. The pause seemed to take forever, until a man somewhere at the other end of their circle spoke up.

“What happens if we don’t listen?” he asked maliciously.

Then Arthur smirked at the assembly, and strode over slowly to where Alistair and Armado were tied together to the first mast. He pulled a flintlock out from under his coat and shot his load into Armado’s chest, peppering him with holes that started spewing blood, staining Alistair’s pale face, now stunned with shock.

Chaos ensued.


	22. Deaf Ears

What happened after Armado was shot down happened like a blur. All the pirates burst into outraged action immediately, fighting the Redcoats to death, knowing that if they didn’t die here, they would only get to die elsewhere in the most humiliating way possible. They had nothing to lose, so they all fought fiercely for their lives.

The only one that didn’t break into the fight was Alistair. From the corner of his eye, Lovino saw him be carried off to the massive British ship by Arthur and with Francis in tow. This confused Lovino, but he didn’t let it get him killed.

He was miserable. Lovino hoped he wouldn’t have to use the sword, but now it was a matter of survival and he certainly cared about his life more than these strangers in a foreign language. That’s clearly how everyone else felt about it. No one could get to the cannons below, so everyone was on deck. Before long, the floorboards were slick with fresh blood and littered with bodies, limb splayed hazardously. That must have been how Antonio tripped and fell backwards with a Redcoat looming over him. Panicked and desperate, Lovino dug his sword into the man’s side, skewering him. Now terrified, he removed his sword and the Redcoats blood spilled everywhere as Antonio struggled back to his feet.

This was how Lovino made his first kill. Almost immediately, the guilt gnawed at him as his hands trembled, threatening to drop the sword in his hands. He wondered how these soldiers could kill so many people and still live on as though it was nothing. Did they really think so little of pirates, as though they were less than human? Is that how the world saw him now?

Did Grandpa and Feli see him this way too?

Before he could reflect on it much more, a small group of soldiers surrounded them and Antonio was left to fight them alone since Lovino was still in shock. Antonio’s grace used to amaze him, but now seeing him kill just as easily as these soldiers, Lovino’s stomach curled and dropped.

As much as Lovino tried to stay close to Antonio, it was impossible. In the heat of battle, they were separated, which might have been for the best since seeing Antonio wrapped in his bloodlust terrified Lovino. He was thankful he was always flanked by at least one more ally, but that ally wasn’t always enough to kill an enemy.

Lovino awkwardly slashed and parried his borrowed sword, just barely managing to not get killed by these experienced soldiers, which is why he was thankful for his allies flanking him, at least until they were cut down in turn, since they were more adventurous than him.

It was only a matter of time.

Lovino was alone against a Redcoat that was only slightly smaller than him, but far more experienced. He was clumsy parrying his strikes, fighting almost entirely defensively while the Redcoat fought aggressively. He was so high on adrenaline, he didn’t notice how tired he already was, and just barely noticed when a sharp pain struck his side until his sword dropped from his hand and he almost tripped in the blood that covered the floorboards. He was thankful a fellow pirate skewered his opponent and helped him back up with a brotherly pat on the back and an encouraging smile.

But Lovino didn’t feel encouraged. He felt overwhelmed.

Clutching the sword wound in his side, he stumbled down the stairs and away from the battle, almost crawling down the stairs that went below deck, hoping to slip away and hide unnoticed. As he limped through the gallery, thick rivulets of blood were dripping from his gaping wound. He knew that even if he did manage to find a decent hiding spot, the trail he was leaving behind would be easy enough to follow. The last thing he wanted was to disappoint Antonio, but a lump was forming in the pit of his stomach that was telling him he already had.

Lovino tripped on a plank and he managed to pull himself into the clustered barrels at the prow of the gun gallery. He hoped he couldn’t be seen from behind the barrels, save for the blood he left behind, and _oh god_ he could taste it now, and he felt the bile rise up as he ran his tongue along his teeth hoping to lose the taste. The sheer smell of blood can make him nauseous, so imagine having to taste it. As his vision blurred and his movements slurred, he realized he was bleeding out rapidly and losing consciousness. _There was just so much_. It didn’t matter how hard he clutched at the wound.

He knew he was going to die, but he wasn’t going to die the way he lived; he was going to die happy. So he forced himself to think happy thoughts _._ He thought of Grandpa and how he doted on him as a little boy. He thought of his whimsical “little” brother that could never stop painting and drawing, and always smiled when Lovino walked into the room. Damn, Feliciano was always _painting_ and he always found it so annoying how he was so _good at it_.

Happy thoughts.

He thought of that one time Grandpa took him and Feli to Rome. Grandpa said that it was supposed to be a “culturally enlightening experience”. Lovino really just remembers how this was the first time he ever felt united with his family. _He missed them so damn much right now_.

The floorboards shook as a cannonball was shot through the living quarters below.. Happy thoughts. Hopefully Antonio will be able to escape the ship and get to shore safely before it sinks. _Happy thoughts_. Why did he keep repeating these words to himself? He couldn’t remember in his daze…

The last thing he remembered was the thought of watching Antonio undress, admiring his flexible, athletic body and how beautiful the colour of his honey-brown skin was, or how mesmerizing the green of his eyes was when the light hit them just right.

He felt tears streaming down his face, mixing with the blood and dirt. There were no more happy thoughts that came to mind. All that was left was the feeling of despair he felt as he realized Antonio would never know. He would never know just how much and how deeply he loved him, because Lovino was too stupid to see it himself until recently. He never told Antonio how much he would love living on a farm with him and finally get to hear him play guitar and sing. They will never get to live out the life they planned to live when they returned from the Bahamas. They would never adopt that beautiful little girl they dreamed of having and they would never grow old together. Lovino prayed he could get a second chance at living so he could eventually live the life he and Antonio wanted to have.

He prayed he could have a second chance at living. He wasn’t going to make the same mistakes again. He was going to make sure he toldl Antonio he loves him, and he was going to make it mean everything. He prayed to God he would have enough time, enough life left in him to save himself, to tell Antonio the truth.

Lovino knew that this time, he wouldn’t hesitate to say it. He wouldn’t hold back. He’ll run his hands through Antonio’s mop of tousled hair just like he always did. The motion was so familiar to him now. He’ll kiss him tenderly at first, to feel his lips just one last time and to feel them just as soft as he imagined them in his dreams. Then he’ll kiss him so passionately, he’ll make the Spaniard faint from it. Yes. That’s what he’ll do.

As Lovino’s thoughts became muddled with exhaustion, he realized he wasn’t going to get a second chance at living. _Please God_ , prayed Lovino, _please let him live_. The dead man’s prayer fell on deaf ears.

His vision darkened. His limbs slackened. The last image flashing through his mind, the last sensation Lovino felt, was the feeling of kissing the man he loves.

He died a happy man.

 

* * *

Antonio tried to stay by Lovino’s side in order to protect him just as he promised Roma, but they were inevitably separated and Antonio’s anxieties spiked, calming his blood lust. He tried to keep a distracted eye on Lovino, but it wasn’t possible in order to prevent his own death. He lost track of the Italian and his heart started to race in panic.

As he cut down his enemies with difficulty, he tried to find Lovino again, but he was nowhere in sight. Not seeing his body made him fear he might have been thrown overboard and his thoughts drifted to an image of him drowning in the salty ocean, dying alone and afraid.

Antonio’s heart ached for Lovino harder than he ever imagined he could.

He did his best to move towards the last place he saw Lovino and found a pool of dead Redcoats and blood. When there was enough of a clearing in the heat of battle, he looked around, desperately trying to find Lovino, hoping to God he didn’t fall overboard. As he looked about, he found the trail of blood leading below deck and his heart fluttered with hope.

He just barely managed to escape from the Redcoats, otherwise occupied with other pirates, before slipping down the stairs, avoiding the thick pools of blood so he wouldn’t slip and kill himself in his quest to find his little Italian. When he reached the bottom, he found a very distinct trail of blood leading to the prow and followed it, ready to deal the killing blow if the man sitting there turned out to be a Redcoat.

With his sword poised to strike, he cautiously walked around the cluster of barrels and heard some mangled Spanish and Italian and knew for certain he’d finally found him. Antonio’s heart stopped when he saw how pale and cold he looked, his eyes lidded with tired weariness and blood pooling in his lap.

Panicked, Antonio knelt down by Lovino’s side and picked him up, laying him in his lap. With a huge amount of effort, Lovino reached up and cupped Antonio’s cheek. He didn’t realize that he’d been crying until Lovino kissed him, and he tasted the salty tears and blood. When Lovino broke their kiss, he whispered a barely audible “I love you” to Antonio.

“No, please,” cried Antonio, petting Lovino’s cold head, weaving his fingers through his tangled, curly hair. “Not now.” He begged Lovino not to die, to hold on just a little longer until the British could be finally vanquished. He assured him that this didn’t have to be the end yet. They still had so much to live for. Antonio still had so much to amend for. Lovino was supposed to help him find peace, but they couldn’t do that if one of them was dead.

He watched helplessly as Lovino let out his last breath and closed his eyes for the last time. Desperate to find any life in him again, Antonio buried his face in Lovino’s hair and whispered “I love you” in his ear, not caring that Lovino was already gone.

He didn’t even hear the cannon shot that hit the prow and sank their ship. The only pain he felt as he died was the pain in his heart... He lost everything.

Antonio also did not die the way he lived: he died alone.

[THE END]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you want me to add an epilogue, leave a comment and say "aye!"
> 
>  **Regarding Dead Man's Prayer** : Feel free to let me know what you thought of it; loved it, hated it, wished it ended differently--tell me anything. Criticism is equally as appreciated as praise. I promise there won't be hard feelings because yes, I am expecting criticism considering how I ended it, but don't go thinking I was sick of it and just wanted to kill everyone off--no. This was pre-meditated. I just want to put that out in the open before anyone accuses me of lazy writing or something.
> 
> I've honestly considered continuing this AU with different fics centred on different characters. I've considered writing a fic telling how Arthur and Francis got together, a fic for what happens to Sadık after he disappears, a fic for what happens to Alistair after he's abducted... there's a lot going on in this AU, but I'm not going to want to write it if no one wants to read it. Just putting that out there. 
> 
> **Announcement** : My next big project is Growing Pains, a FinIce/RusAme fic (yes, it has a happy ending). I'll also be working on Singing Well, a DenNor fic (ending yet to be determined). Feel free to find me on Tumblr (there's a link on my profile) to find out more or ask me questions directly.


	23. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is, guys--the epilogue, as promised. I hope it makes up for all the bad feelings from the last chapter! Let me know whether it does or not... I always love hearing from you guys :) 'cause you're all the best <3

By the time Antonio woke up, the loneliness that gripped him as he fell asleep had dissipated. He felt longing, heartache, and nostalgia all at once. When he opened his eyes, he was looking up stalks of wheat. He had never seen wheat from this angle before and his earlier emotions were soon replaced with confusion and curiosity.

He felt no pain as he sat up, which was surprising. He looked down at himself and realized he was relatively unscathed and his clothes were clean. Even the blood stains that have accumulated over the years were gone, leaving his shirt a starchy white that contrasting with the golden-yellow stalks around him. He looked ahead into the horizon and noticed he was in a large wheat field that seemed to go on for miles, only broken by a turquoise sea in the far distance. The sight of it soothed him to his core with its familiarity. His longing, heartache, and nostalgia still simmered just below the surface, threatening to burst out and break him again, but at least with the sea within sight, he could cope.

He stood up and turned in a circle, taking a good look at his surroundings. He seemed completely surrounded by wheat, save for the little wooden house with a thatched roof in the distance, poking out of the field. Antonio figured there might be someone there that could tell him where he is, so he started the slow trek towards the little house on the prairie. When he was closer, he noticed the small pens and shacks that must have been for animals, and he realized he stumbled on a farmhouse. In his experience, farmers have always been better mannered than pirates, so this was good news to him. He could feel the sea calling to him, but he still forced himself to walk in the other direction towards the house, hopefully towards answers.

He was only a few paces away when a man walked out of the goat’s enclosure and started walking purposefully towards the house. When the man noticed Antonio, he froze and dropped the pail he’d been holding, water sloshing to the ground, crying Antonio’s name as though he knew him. Before Antonio could completely collect his thoughts, the man charged towards him, arms around his neck in the tightest embrace Antonio has ever had the pleasure of receiving, causing him to stagger.

“Oh, Toño, it really is you! I thought I’d never see you again, I was so scared, I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough, I’m sorry!” cried the man.

The longer Antonio listened to him, the greater his heartache became. “Oh, Lovino,” he said lovingly. “Lovino, I love you so much,” he murmured in his ear, holding him tightly to his chest, a hand weaving into his curly hair, too afraid to let him go.

Their embrace never seemed to end as they each cried and said loving things to each other in whispers only they would ever hear. When they both finally calmed themselves and the tears stopped coming, Antonio finally braved to ask, “Where are we?”

“It’s the farmhouse I grew up in,” answered Lovino with a jovial expression on his face. “Come inside.” He didn’t bother waiting for an answer before clutching Antonio’s hand and half-dragging him to the house, the pail completely forgotten on the ground.

They crossed the threshold to be greeted with the great smell of tomatoes and spices cooking. In the main living room was a man and woman that looked about the same age, slightly older than he and Lovino, talking in hushed whispers and gazing at each other. An elderly woman was cooking over the pot in the fireplace, radiating with serenity and grace.

“Antonio, I would like you to meet my parents and my grandmother,” declared Lovino with an excitement that mirrored Feliciano’s usual cheerfulness.

All three looked him over as Antonio’s cheeks burned. This was too sudden. But although the couple that must have been his parents seemed sceptical, the elderly woman gave them a warm smile. “So this is why you have been moping since you got here, Lovi,” she said teasingly.

“Uh,” interjected Antonio nervously. “With all due respect, madam, but where is ‘here’? We can’t possibly be in Italy, no?”

“And why not, since this _is_ Italy,” she answered.

Antonio stood in dumb silence. That couldn’t possibly be true. The last thing he remembered before falling asleep, Lovino had died in his arms and he’d cried over his limp body before he… died. Just then, Antonio finally realized he hadn’t been sleeping at all.

“Grandma, you’re being misleading,” whined Lovino, clutching onto Antonio’s arm before gazing up at him. “We’re in heaven,” he said bluntly.

Perhaps it was the tension or the recent confusion, but Antonio cackled. “You’re telling me heaven is in Italy?”

“No, you idiot,” scowled Lovino. “It’s like a copy of our world for the dead, but better and happier.”

“That doesn’t make sense. This can’t be heaven,” protested Antonio.

“And why not,” asked the old woman.

“Because I don’t—” Antonio froze. He wanted to protest and say he didn’t deserve to be in heaven. He’d killed too many people and committed too many crimes to deserve it.

Lovino’s mother could see the hesitation on Antonio’s face and said, “it’s because you’re a good person,” in answer to the internal monologuing she imagined was happening. She remembered her own doubts upon finding her husband and mother in this place.

Antonio maintained a shocked silence. All the things he’d been told about what to do and what not to do to go to heaven have been wrong. All his life, he believed he was meant to go to hell because he liked men, because he liked being a pirate, or because he’d killed. All this time, he had nothing to worry about, so long as he was the good person he liked being. Lovino’s family seemed to realize that this was a lot for him to take in and left him alone to think, not wanting to badger him with their questions about his life and experiences just yet. Antonio and Lovino spent the day together, huddled in the golden wheat field, cooing and murmuring to each other all the things they wished they had said when they were still living.

The afterlife seemed to go on the same way their normal life went. Antonio helped to work the fields when he could, but most of the time, he preferred helping Lovino’s father in the shanty. It meant being closer to the sea, his home, and that meant he was happier.

He quickly noticed the tension between Lovino and his mother; it was almost tangible. It took time, but Lovino eventually accepted and forgave his mother, their tension dissipating over time.

One day, Antonio was sitting in the house alone with Grandma Sicilia. She felt like the sort of person that carried a lot of wisdom, and he was in need of answers.

“Sicilia, would you happen to know how I wound up in your wheat field? Did the four of you find each other? How does that work?”

She chuckled lightly, clearly amused by his curious nature. “God sends us home when we die,” she answered.

“But I’m from Spain,” he retorted, more confused by her answer than anything else.

“But how long has it been since you thought of Spain as your home?” she countered.

Antonio thought about it for a moment. He supposed he hadn’t really ever considered Spain his home, not after the childhood he led in the orphanage, and then living a life at sea with Armado. He felt a pang in his chest thinking about his adoptive father, another man he was forced to watch die brutally, and wondered where _his_ home had been.

“You’re here in Italy because Lovino is here,” she said. “Your home is with him.”

She patted his hand before leaving the house with the feed for the chickens, leaving Antonio alone with his thoughts. He realized she was right.

Soon after his conversation with Sicilia, Antonio went to join Lovino’s father in the shanty again. He was fixing one of his large gill nets and Antonio took the only other seat to start repairing a different hole. They worked in silence briefly before Basilio spoke up.

“What exactly did you intend with my son?” he asked, his tone tainted with stagnant distrust.

Antonio bristled at his tone. It made him wary. “I don’t know what you mean,” he said.

“I mean, do you care about him or is he just some plaything for you?” he asked again more harshly, keeping his eyes down on the net.

Antonio was surprised by the question. Using Lovino had never even crossed his mind. “I love him more than anything else in the world,” he replied with brutal honesty. “He’s the reason I’m here with you now.”

“And yet you’re here with me,” retorted Basilio playfully, clearly satisfied with Antonio’s answer.

Glad that Basilio was finally going to stop giving him glares now, he went back to focusing on the netting, letting his thoughts wander. What Basilio said struck a chord in him.

“I hoped to show Lovino the world,” he quietly admitted, the guilt of his failure gnawing at him. “But we both died before I could.”

“Well, why don’t you?” stated Basilio. “I took Molisana around the world the day she joined me here.”

“I don’t have a boat,” answered Antonio.

“Then take mine,” offered Basilio. “You and Lovino will be able to sail the schooner on your own. You can bring her back when you’re done.”

Antonio had no words to express the gratitude he felt towards the older man. He nodded, excited to finally be able to deliver on at least one of his promises to Lovino.

The very next day, Lovino and Antonio took the two-masted fishing boat and sailed away. Lovino smugly decided he wanted to be in charge this time. Antonio was amused by his eagerness and decided there was no harm in it—they were already both dead, after all. They didn’t need money, or sleep, or food, so the trip would be painless, without hardship, and enjoyable. It would be just the two of them with all the time God could give them to be together, loving and happy, to see the world and experience it to its fullest.

Throughout their travels, there is one lesson they learnt most of all: life goes on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still wanna write the FrUK side of the story and Alistair's sequel, but I've yet to come up with solid ideas for them :/ y'all can look for me sometime to see if they pop up or not <3


End file.
